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gravehags · 7 months

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meet me in the woods

Pairing: Cirrus x f!Reader (Regency AU)

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: plus size reader, regency au, ghouls as highwaymen, stripping, oral sex, fingering

Words: 3,445

Summary: You are a well-bred, polite society girl. Until you're not.

a/n: this whole thing is @terzosbignaturals fault tbh (enjoy)

~~~

“Do try to sit up straight, dear, you look so…so portly when you slouch.”

Obediently you straighten your shoulders as the carriage jostles the three of you around.

“Perhaps I look portly because I am portly, my lady,” you say quietly, not without a bit of venom. You would never dare speak back to your guardian directly, so subtle comments must make do. Lady Catherine’s face sours and her thin lips purse as she regards you with a withering glance but does not respond. Lord Richard sits next to you, snoring and completely oblivious to the conversation as well as your presence on the whole. That was nothing new, the man practically lived in his smoking room, never once sparing you a thought. You were perfectly content with that, enjoying being ignored far more than being under the constant scrutiny and cruel words of the woman sitting across from you.

Ever since your parents died many years ago, you have been raised (perhaps a generous term) by these two members of the social elite who are allegedly distant cousins. You spend most of your time alone, wandering the estate gardens and reading your novels, ever dreaming of adventure and romance. Your guardians have, of course, brought reluctant suitors around to woo you, but you have been unmoved by any of their paltry ideas of romance. No, you much preferred bundling up in your bed at night with only a candle for company, clinging to the pages of a gothic horror novel borrowed from one of your friends - a scandalous thing that involves a sinister countess seducing her chambermaid. So desperately you wish to be desired darkly, deeply and you find immense comfort and pleasure in every dramatic, lust-filled word.

Your eyes have become unfocused as you gaze out the window and you barely notice the cavalcade of dark horses that stampede past you, causing the carriage to come to a halt. You look to Lady Catherine, who looks more annoyed than anything, as she pounds on the ceiling to alert the driver of her irritation. There is a prolonged silence and you feel anxiety twist in your gut when suddenly the door of the carriage is wrenched open.

“Well, well, well, and what kind of treasure do we have here?”

The figure looks…well…dashing is the only way you can put it. Tall, swathed in a long black coat and breeches tucked into black leather riding boots. Their face is obscured from the nose down by a black kerchief and on their head sits a dramatic feathered black hat. Lady Catherine opens her mouth to squawk indignantly at the intruder but they simply roll their eyes and motion to someone behind them. In the meantime the figure offers you a gloved hand and, with no better ideas at hand, you take it. When you step out of the carriage you see a group of more than half a dozen figures, also masked and in black, standing at attention either on horses or on foot. One of them comes forward with a length of cloth and the mysterious figure climbs back into the carriage to gag Lady Catherine with it. Lord Richard barely stirs with an inelegant snort and immediately falls back asleep, deaf to the muffled cries of his wife.

The group of what you can only assume are bandits continue to stare as the leader re-emerges from the carriage and slams the door shut behind them. They’re taller than you, and have you pushed up slightly against the side of the buggy with their arm resting above your head. They’re close enough you can smell them - something sweet akin to violets but also plum and leather - and the scent makes you dizzy. They bring a gloved hand up and run a finger along your jawline, giving you a lascivious once over that makes you flush from head to toe.

“Treasure, indeed,” they say, fingering the green velvet of your spencer jacket. The others around them chuckle and nudge one another as your eyes dart around, unsure of where to look or what to do.

“W-who are you?” you ask quietly, and the leader makes a dramatic gasp with a slight fainting motion.

“She speaks! And even her voice is just as lovely,” a few of the bandits chuckle and they give you a wink.

“We are highwaymen, my treasure,” there is something about this voice, while not familiar to your ears it sounds unusual.

“We don’t have anything of value,” you say in a rush, fidgeting with the muslin of your gown. “I mean…Lady Catherine might,” you admit softly. The leader’s eyes crinkle - they clearly must be grinning underneath the mask - as they regard you. “Please let us go.”

“‘Please,’” the leader murmurs. “So polite. Such a well-bred young woman. Allow me to ask you a question - do you want to be let go?”

You think back to your gothic novels and the thrill they give you, as well as the feeling you are experiencing at the apex of your thighs. If they let you and the others go…then what? A lifetime listening to catty comments from one of your guardians and absolute ignorance from the other? A lifetime of finding some horrible little man Lady Catherine has chosen for you to marry and being stuck bearing his many children? The thought makes you feel nauseous and it must show on your face because the highwayman slides a finger under your chin and lifts it so you are looking at them.

“No,” you whisper, after a beat. “No, I do not want to be let go.”

The figure leans in close to you and runs a hand over your waist, inhaling deep.

“You’re mine now,” they breathe before gripping you by the arm and pulling you over to the largest black steed of the pack. Elegantly, they mount the horse and gesture for one of the other bandits to assist you in climbing up and situating yourself in front of them on the saddle. The way their warm thighs frame yours and their eyes trace along your exposed stocking-clad calves makes you shiver in anticipation. All at once they let out a piercing whistle and everyone mounts their horses and leaves the forested area. As the stallion begins to gallop, you briefly look backwards at where your guardians have been left behind. You want to feel guilty, to feel disgraced at what you’ve done. But quite frankly, you can’t bring yourself to care.

Good riddance.

You ride for a great long while, your somewhat-captor’s arms woven around your waist and gripping you tight to them. Their chin rests on your shoulder and you can hear them breathing in your ear, even over the thundering of hooves. What a sight all of you must make, you think, as you traverse the countryside like a pack of devils. The exhilaration of the situation, the wind in your hair, thrills you and your face splits open in a smile. For the first time in your whole life you feel free.

Your companion must see your wild grin because their grip tightens around your waist and they bring their hips flush against your behind.

“Enjoying yourself, my sweet?” they call into your ear, only just loud enough for you to hear over the pounding gallops of the horse.

Briefly looking over your shoulder you nod, face flushed from both the wind and emotion. When you turn your head back around, you feel droplets begin to fall onto your cheeks and you hear the figure behind you let out a curse.

“We still have a few miles to ride,” they say, spurring the steed on with their heels, “Hope you don’t mind getting wet.” There’s a vaguely lascivious note to their voice and once again you feel a twinge between your thighs.

It takes about five minutes but suddenly the dark sky opens up and begins pouring down upon your group. You’re all riding as fast as you can through the forest when in the distance you see a large rock formation. As you get closer you notice there is a massive opening in the rock that leads into a dark, dark cave. You’re shivering by the time the riders stop at the entrance and dismount, soaked to the bone and barely able to move. Your companion dismounts swiftly and reaches up to remove you from the saddle. The other masked bandits stand around and watch as they carry you, as a groom carries a bride on their wedding night, into the mouth of the cave.

It’s not quite as dark in here as you originally thought - the walls lined with many torches and fires providing warmth to the dank space. The highwayman continues to carry you through the wide, weaving tunnel as if you weigh nothing. You feel so…so delicate in their arms, a sensation that you were entirely unfamiliar with. When the two of you turn a corner, you’re brought into a secluded area. The ground is covered in luxurious cushions and rugs, a large, thick fur tucked underneath. They set you down on the surprisingly comfortable surface and with a flick of their hand, remove both the kerchief covering their face and their hat.

Your jaw drops open.

Her hat.

The woman that stands before you is breathtaking as she loosens her silver streaked dark hair from the queue at the back of her neck. The coat comes off next and reveals a white blouse and, you note with your cheeks flushing deep, she wears no stays. Black fabric strains tight around rounded hips and long legs.

You’re staring. And she notices.

“You’re not bad to look at yourself, my dove,” she coos. “Let’s get you out of those damp clothes, hmm?”

When she kneels down at your feet, staring deep into your eyes, you feel lightheaded. Carefully she unlaces your boots and removes them one by one. Fingers slipping on the buttons, you shed your drenched jacket, leaving yourself in equally wet white muslin. The rain has soaked through to your dress and now the material clings to your skin and stays. Her eyes travel across the swell of your breasts and her lips curl into a sinister toothy grin that makes you burn inside. You don’t know what to do now as you cannot reach the buttons on the back of your dress, but she seems to anticipate this and gestures for you to flip over onto your stomach. Slowly, she runs a hand over the curve of your backside and along your spine until she reaches the buttons and deftly undoes them, shedding you of one more layer. Shivering you turn back over, now only your stays and chemise separating your body from her intense gaze. Your fingers start to move towards the laces at the front of your chest but you hesitate.

“What’s your name?” you ask quietly as she scoots towards you more.

“Cirrus,” she answers simply. It’s unusual but it suits her and you quite like it. You tell her your name in return and you enjoy the way her lips and tongue wrap around it.

“May I?” she asks with a little half smile, hand gesturing towards the front of your stays. “You’ll catch a dreadful cold if we don’t get all this off you.”

Blush returning, you nod and her fingers begin tugging at the knot and laces until the garment falls open. Your thin, damp chemise fights for its life as it clings to your breasts and Cirrus licks her lips.

“Beautiful,” she breathes, eyes roaming over your form. “One last thing.”

Her hands reach down to the hem of your chemise, inching it up your body until it comes off over your head and is discarded behind her. When you’re fully exposed to her, wearing nothing but your white stockings, she lets out a ragged breath.

“Treasure the likes of which I have never seen before,” she murmurs, fingers running down your belly. Your mind harkens back to that salacious little novel you loved to read under the cover of night and the way the countess would touch her chambermaid. You feel a rush from between your legs and you bite your lip as your eyes dance upon Cirrus’ features.

“W-what are you going to do to me?” you ask, cheeks heated and thighs clenching.

She lets out a dark little chuckle as her hand hovers over your body, twitching in their obvious desire to touch you.

“I told you,” she starts, leaning back, “that you’re mine now. And I am so very good to my treasures.”

“Oh?” your voice comes out higher than you would like.

“Mmm,” she hums as she throws a leg over your body the same way she mounted her steed. As she straddles your waist, her hands come up to tangle in your damp hair and brush her thumbs against your parted lips.

“Would you like me to be good to you, my sweet?”

She continues to thumb at your cheekbones while looking deep into your eyes, her gaze illuminated by the many torches that surround the two of you.

“No one has ever been…good to me,” you confess, understanding her double entendre. You are, after all, a good society girl. The only touch of a lover you have known is your own, late in the night when all were asleep.

“A damn shame,” she says, leaning her face down to yours, “And yet, I am so very glad that I have you all to myself now.” In an instant she slots her lips against yours and you jump from the contact. Her kiss is slow and languid, clearly delighting in the lack of urgency presented to the both of you. When she teases her tongue along your lower lip you let out a little whimper and she takes the opportunity to plunder your mouth. As she continues to hotly kiss you, you wind your arms around her neck to bring her in close. Her hand slides up the side of your body to cup at your breast, thumb flicking your pebbled nipple. When she breaks the kiss you let out a pathetic little whine that makes her grin as she slides further down your body.

“Such a needy thing, hmm?” she says before wrapping her lips around your nipple, causing your back to arch sharply. Your hand slides into her loose hair to push her against you and she lets out a rough chuckle around the bud before lightly nipping it with her teeth, causing your hips to buck upwards. When she pulls off of you and leans back, the pout on your face makes her throw her head back in a laugh.

“Wanton little creature!” she crows, as you continue to glare up at her, “they had no idea what lay beneath your surface, eh? All those simpering idiot suitors you undoubtedly had - they could never pull these sweet sounds from you.”

You shake your head as she idly palms your breasts in her beautiful hands.

“Darling girl, I’m going to make you scream,” she promises, once again lowering her mouth to you. The pleasure that seeps out of you as she laves at your other breast makes your back arch once more. Slowly, her body continues to slide down and she places tender kisses over the curves of your belly. When she settles between your legs, she grins with all her teeth. Hands grip at the fullness of your thighs, fingers slipping underneath your stockings to feel the soft flesh there. Her breath dances across your mound, stirring the hairs and she nuzzles into your leg.

“Tell me what you want,” Cirrus asks, fingers tracing the veins in your leg.

“I…I don’t know,” you say honestly, blushing furiously.

She chuckles against you, placing a kiss to your inner thigh that makes you twitch.

“Do you want me to devour you?” she says, licking a stripe along the slit of you that wrenches a sharp gasp from your throat. “Do you want me to fill you up like no man ever could?”

“I–I…yes. Yes, please.” The confession leaves your lips in a rush, desperate to feel her mouth on you once more.

Gently, Cirrus uses two fingers to spread you open and what she sees clearly delights her.

“Mmm sweet girl, so fucking wet for me and me alone, aren’t you?”

Her fingers trace along your clitorial hood, forcing a whine from your throat.

“Yes,” you breathe, your hips unconsciously making little circles. “I need you, Cirrus. Only you.”

The words cause Cirrus to let out a feral growl before she slides the flat of her tongue along your bud. She hungrily laps at your slick, circling your clit before dipping down into your entrance for more. You’ve never felt anything like this before - none of your meager attempts at self-pleasure could compare - and you tell her so. Your confession spurs her on as she continues to assault your cunt with her tongue, sliding in and out of your entrance. It’s divine, and if she continued like this you could die happy but you need more.

“Cirrus,” you whine as she wraps her lip around your clit and sucks, “fill me up. Please, I need more.”

Cirrus smiles against your mound and places a chaste kiss to it as she pulls back to rearrange herself. When she brings a single, long finger to tease at your entrance your hips thrust forward.

“Next time I’ll use my cock,” she promises as she slowly slides the finger in. “This will do for now.”

Her mouth returns to your clit and you spasm around her finger as she crooks it inside you. All of a sudden your eyes roll back at the sensation, and grinning, she adds another finger. With both of them hooked inside you, brushing that spot you’ve never known before, she flexes her fingers as she sucks at you. As her fingers piston in and out of you, your hips jerk upwards to meet her thrusts, desperate to feel more of her. When she adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously you keen and clench your fingers deep in the fur rug. She’s relentless, ruthless as she brings you closer and closer to the edge, lips locked around your clit and fingers fucking into you. Your breaths become more and more shallow, gasping for air as you feel something build in your pelvis that spreads throughout your body. Suddenly your hand flies to grip at her hair and she growls at your tugging, fingers moving even faster. You’re calling her name, swearing your undying love to her, swearing your body to her as she brings you over the edge. All of a sudden your back bows off the cushions and you throw your head back, a loud, lingering moan exploding from your lips. She continues to work her fingers and mouth on you through your climax, relenting only when you beg her to stop. As your breaths heave from you, she draws away from you and removes her fingers. You’re loath to lose the feeling of being so full but when you see her appearance, you’re filled with a simmering desire. Her hair is a mess from being in your clutches, face sopping wet from the nose down and a vicious grin on her face. Not breaking eye contact with you she wipes her face on the back of her sleeve before crawling up your body and settling beside you.

“Cirrus,” you breathe, only now calming down from your high, “that was…I’ve never…”

She chuckles and pulls a blanket at your feet over the both of you, drawing you into her warm embrace. The space is surprisingly cozy despite being deep within a cave.

“My girl,” she murmurs, kissing your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Thank you for giving me the honor of ruining you.”

You want to roll your eyes and give her a look, but she’s right. As if you could be with anyone else after…after that.

“What now?” you say quietly, toying with the sleeve of her blouse.

“What do you mean?” she asks, leaning away to look at you. “I told you you’re mine. I always mean what I say.”

Suddenly, you’re filled with a rush of warmth that starts in your belly and spreads to the tip of your head down to your toes. You think of your old life - your horrible guardians, stodgy suitors, boring balls - and you grin.

“Never pictured myself as a highwaywoman’s mistress before,” you say, tucking your head into her. “I quite think it will suit me.”

#cirrus x reader #cirrus x female reader #cirrus x f!reader #cirrus ghoulette #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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sawrinwrites · 1 month

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Sawrin does Bumbleby Week

I know I said I was going to use this month to focus on OC content, but I am a recklessly impulsive dumbass, so when the prompt list for Bumbleby Week went up and I realised I was accidentally completing the prompt for day 1, my brain went “Welp! Might as well do all 8!” and I agreed.

Some of these are based on concepts I've already been developing for future multi-chapter fics. I've marked those ones with a * by the title so you guys can let me know which ones you want to see the most.

Here’s what you can expect to see over the next 8 days:

Day 1 - Bumblebaby

Title: Expecting

Summary: A new story in the As Told By Ember collection. This tale follows the best girl as she helps her humans prepare for the arrival of their first child.

Author’s Comment: You can thank @reeves3 for this one. Without their suggestion, I wouldn’t have had the inspiration to build out a collection of Ember’s adventures.

Day 2 – Jock & Nerd AU

Title: I See You*

Summary: Weiss knows Blake and Yang are in love, she just hasn’t figured out a way to get them together yet. When Blake accidentally submits the wrong poem to her class and Yang ends up writing an essay on it, Weiss finally finds the opening she’s been waiting for.

Author’s Comment: This fit the prompt better when it was from Yang and Blake’s POV, but the story worked better from Weiss’ so that's what I wrote. Bees trauma-bonding through literature (a concept that is very near and dear to my heart).

Day 3 – Soulmates / Reincarnation

Title: And Every Time I’ll Find You

Summary: As another one of Blake’s lives draw to a close, she and Yang return to the place where it all began.

Author’s Comment: My beta reader banned me from writing soulmate stories because of this. It’s a sad one.

Day 4 – Nomad Blake & Farm Girl Yang

Title: Maybe This Year

Summary: The Kuo Kuana dragon riders make their annual visit to the floating island of Patch. For most, it’s a chance to relax. For Blake, it’s a chance to reunite with Yang and wonder how many more times she’s going to be able to leave.

Author’s Comment: Pretty sure the last time I wrote about dragons was when the years still had 00 in the middle of them. My inner child had a field day with this one. A more fun and light fic than the summary might suggest.

Day 5 – Evil Yang / Blake (or both)

Title: A Weak and Foolish Heart*

Summary: Sequestered to a keep in the middle of the Vacuo desert, the blood mage Blake leverages her skills and her history with Yang to try and ascertain the location of Princess Weiss Schnee.

Author’s Comment: This one’s the reason why each day is getting posted as a new piece of work instead of chapters under one project. Tags for blood, gore, graphic violence, and depictions of torture. I spent hours researching tendon names and positions for this. It’s also the fic that most closely resembles my preferred writing style (make of that fact what you will).

Day 6 – Comfort

Title: The Way It Feels*

Summary: Blake and Yang attempt to be intimate for the first time since Yang’s accident but the loss of sensations in Yang’s arm triggers a panic attack instead. Blake comforts her wife in the aftermath.

Author’s Comment: I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be a Sawrin fic without angst before the comfort.

Day 7 – AU Day

Title: Double Date*

Summary: After Weiss accidentally accepts an invitation to be the third wheel at a dinner date with Pyrrha and her girlfriend, Yang, she begs her best friend, Blake, to join as her fake girlfriend. An easy ask, if Blake didn’t find herself attracted to the blonde on the other side of the table.

Author’s Comment: I was going to put up a vote on which AU to do but the second I added “Fake Dating” to the list my brain went “What if the Bees weren’t the ones who were fake dating?” So here you go, fake dating monochrome with (assumed) Greek fire. Bees & Schneekos endgame. Also an excuse for me finally write Blake into that dress.

Day 8 – Bonus / VA Appreciate Day

Title: Downtime

Summary: Blake and Yang discuss the lives of their VAs, as well as their own budding relationship.

Author’s Comment: The shortest one of the lot, this is really just a small love letter to the Bees and to Barb and Arryn.

I'll be posting a link to each fic under the Bumbleby Week tag as they go live.

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lucreziaq2001 · 1 month

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•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of period-typical homophobia and conversion therapy, the possibility of moms being separated from their young children, three siblings who have just lost their dad, the fact that his wife told their children who she actually was in a long letter before he died, and they find and read it in this story, a brief mention of a baby girl who was stillborn (born dead), two women who know they are bisexual and are having an affair their husbands know about but everyone else has no idea of, two brothers who have recently lost their mom and had already lost their father years prior, a woman who has just lost both her husband and her former lover, mentions of the deaths of three elderly people, an old woman reuniting with her husband and daughter after her death and the now very old woman who lost her former lover daydreaming about the two of them reuniting in the afterlife, although she doesn't want to leave her family behind.

•This One Shot is a "Criminal minds" History AU taking place partly in 1960s and partly in 2023, then 2024.

•In this story, JJ, who is only going to be called "Jennifer", is married to Will with sons Henry and Michael and stillborn daughter Maggie, like in "Criminal minds", but Emily is married to Aaron (Hotch, obviously) and they have three children, Jack, biological son to both Emily and Aaron here, Nancy and Jane. Their daughters are obviously OCs, and so are all the children's spouses and families. Like many other women in the 1960s, JJ and Emily are housewives, while both their husbands are police officers, co-workers too.

•The age gap between Henry and Michael is also two years smaller than it was in "Criminal minds", because I liked it better this way.

•I apologise if any of the adults (Will, JJ, Aaron and Emily) will seem out of character to you. This is what I needed them to be like in this One Shot, though.

•Emily, JJ, Will and Aaron are not the same ages as they were in "Criminal minds". In 1968, both Emily and JJ are 32 years old, while Will is 35 and Aaron is 38. I gave them those ages because they made more sense for the story's timeline.

•Both JJ and Emily are not lesbians, they are bisexual with a preference for women. That's why they still had sex with their husbands and had Michael, Nancy and Jane (it was a rare thing by that time, though, while they are happy it resulted in their younger children).

•This fanfiction is inspired both by the title of a One Shot @babygirl-garcia published on here, "Historians will say they were besties" (just the title, our ideas have nothing to do with each other) and by the final part, from 2:22 to the end, of this video: https://youtu.be/qwdFojRueyQ?si=CHy7iFP3FjHkY1Nl , the ending of the "Cold case" episode "World's end". And it is also similar to a One Shot my now friend "sofi_grimes" published on Wattpad. It was my request, though, so the idea was mine and I told her about it.

•I've found this fanfiction's title thanks to a titles-themed Wattpad story, so the credits for it go to its author. I can't tag them on here, though.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @snixkers, @pagetsgirl, @gubsbuubs, @sucker-for-emily-prentiss, @oneshotnewbie, @marril96. @snixkers and @gubsbuubs also gave me some advice for the story, so I thank them for that😊.

Whispers at night

EMILY'S POV

February 2023

"Dear Jack, Nancy and Jane.

If you are reading this letter, it means I'm either dead or way too old to remember ever writing it.

I am aware that what I wrote here could make you question me as a mother too, but I want to let you know that I love and have always loved the three of you more than life itself.

As for your father, however, he always had a competitor for my affection and love.

Maybe you already know this by now, but that person was Henry, Maggie and Michael's mother, my 'friend' Jennifer.

Spring 1968

By now, my favourite time of every day from Monday to Friday is the morning, from 9:30 am to 11:40 pm, after Aaron has left for work and I have taken Jack to school, Nancy to preschool and Jane to daycare, and after having cleaned the house a little bit, I climb over the small white fence that separates my house from that of my neighbor and friend, Jennifer Jareau.

Sometimes our other neighbors, especially the older ones, still ask us why we spend so much time together without our husbands and kids, but most of them don't think we are doing anything weird or wrong, which we are very thankful for.

To them, Jennifer and I are just best friends, after all.

If only they knew what Jennifer, her husband William, Aaron and I know!

At times, I think things would be easier if we just told them, but the rational part of me knows we can't do that.

'If they were to find out about what we are doing, we would get into a lot of trouble, Em!' Jennifer often reminds me, just like she has had to do for five years by now, since our relationship began 'We would be separated from our children and sent to a mental hospital!'.

She is right, I know it, but I also didn't and still don't think we are doing anything bad.

We are living our truth and our husbands know it and accept us for who we are.

I wish we could be open about this to the rest of the world too, but I'm aware that no one has to know it, not really for us, but for our kids' sake.

Jack is 10 years old, Henry is 7, Nancy is 4 and Michael and Jane are only 1 year old.

They deserve to have their mamas in their lives and both Jennifer and I love them way too much to allow who we are to lead us to abandon them.

As hard as this situation is sometimes, as much as having to live this double life can and will hurt, for our and their wellbeing, our love will have to remain a secret.

Our now more friendly than romantic relationships with our husbands can be out in the open with no problems or consequences.

They can be made of date nights at restaurants, long conversations after our children have gone to sleep and hugs and kisses given in public too.

Mine and Jennifer's feelings for each other, instead, will have to live through secret intercourses, quick exchanged looks in public and hidden handholdings under tables.

She is the person that understands me the most and knows me better in my life as of now, and yet, our love will have to be made of whispers at night, probably as long as we live.

It will hurt and be very difficult at times, but having to live in anticipation of those little moments makes them even more special in my eyes.

Those minutes together and our kids make all the troubles we've had, have and will have to go through more than worth it".

January 2024

If there was something I wasn't expecting to happen today, it was seeing all three of my children walk into my room at the nursing home I've been living at for the past three years.

Jack, Nancy and Jane do come to see me as often as they can, usually along with their spouses or their children and either Jack's granddaughter or Nancy's grandson, but unless it's my birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas or Easter, the three of them don't come here all together.

I'm about to ask them why they are all here, but before I get to speak, I notice what Jane is holding.

It's a notebook with a red cover, and on the front, in yellow letters, the words "Whispers at night" are written.

"What's that?" I question, and Jack smiles at me and takes an envelope I know very well out of his pants' right pocket.

It contains the letter I wrote to my kids years ago about the love story between me and Jennifer.

"Have...Have you read it?" I ask shakily.

I expected and wanted them to find it, but a part of me is still worried about them finding out what is written in it.

"Yes, Mama, and that's why we wrote this" Nancy explains, smiling too, as Jane walks over to me and hands me the notebook.

Then, my children say goodbye to me and leave me alone so I can read it in peace.

It is like a short book in which my son and daughters, with Henry and Michael's permission and help, talk about mine and Jennifer's relationship.

As I read it, especially close to the end, besides being almost moved to tears by the way the kids chose to tell our story, I start thinking about Jennifer and missing her more and more with every word I take in.

She died of old age two months ago, and while many people who knew and loved her said she must have been happy to reunite with her daughter, who was stillborn in 1964, but also with Will, who passed away three years ago, I hope she is actually waiting for me wherever she is now.

I don't want to leave my loved ones behind, but a part of me can't wait to join her in a place where no one will judge us for just being ourselves and we will finally get to be hallppy together and not be separated by anyone or anything.

Thinking about that, I'm already so excited to see my Jennifer again on the Other Side and spend the rest of eternity there with her.

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leggerefiore · 2 months

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I am feeding you some content, both as a Valentine's Day treato and because I know you've been worrying to death over how the mouth pain has impacted your content (which I'd rather you rest than burn yourself out and suffer).

Here's my take at a Cyrus x Reader timeline. Mostly based on what's been written and discussed, but I did add a HC or two (like Cyrus falling in love 1st because that's hilarious to me. Remember how we talked about Cyrus already assuming he was already reader's BF when they confessed and asked him out? Just imagine him waiting YEARS to tell reader how long he had assumed they were already a couple and it's something ridiculous like 6 months or more. Maybe it doesn't even come out until Lenie gets old enough to have crushes of her own like 20+ years later. Comedic Gold.)

I'm doing better-ish today. Some days are more manageable than others lol. I still want to try to write when I can since it's my favourite hobby and I like writing cute things... And I'd be remiss not to write something for this lovely holiday.

Anyways, on topic to the timeline... I see a friend group mention after becoming BFFs with Cyrus, so I'd like to imagine him being weirdly jealous in his own... Cyrus flair...

His teenage years after being forcibly separated from his friend group and having to focus solely on the activities and studies that his parents want his attention on... Poor guy probably feels like he lost to Volkner in some strange way. Though, he does have his awkward moments of rebelling, certainly... He can only take so much loneliness and difficult feelings before s/o finds themselves with a wordless Cyrus at their side who clearly doesn't want to go home.

Him falling in love first could also be a product of that loneliness, but not necessarily solely that.

As for later on, I think around 18 or 19 would probably be when his parents would want to look into "arranged style" marriages for him with their business partners and it would make him go more mad about his life not being under his control. (Maybe another reason he is so obsessed with order and what not.)

I do wonder what would make his final spiral happen. Maybe one of those old business partners tries to force a marriage by doing something to s/o? Or something maybe more canonical would just be the stress on him from running such a company at a relatively young age with his already rough upbringing.

Interpol custody arc is where s/o starts making Mob Wife Tiktoks or something lmao. Saturn begs them to stop. (Poor Cyllene, though. It would be a difficult readjustment for everyone.)

Pokemas Arc aka(gi) Cyrus Is At It Again! at least Cyllene would effectively nerf his true intentions in this AU. (She gets to be a sync pair with his Rotom, so she's extra effective, too.)

#cyrus.ima

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boxwinebaddie · 3 months

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𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 & 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪𝓼 𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓮𝔂,

greetings from wherever you are and whatever timezone you are in, and with any luck, in that nook you are tucked, it is still the best day of the year aka...Rile Pile's Birthday ( aka pastorcraigenjoyer on ao3 ), who some of you may call the style one-shot whump wizard now ft. lizard, but i am blessed to call, my lovely computer wife and life. <33

my angel, my darling, my dear, sweet girl: happy birthday, beloved.

( beneath the readmore is a birthday surprise. xx for my favorite redhead writer girl, but also for all of you. fair warning, you do have to read a lot to get there, but i promise that it will be worth the while. )

@actually-its-riley @1moreoffkeyanthem @marryme

i know that you do not like to make a big deal about your birthday, but unfortunately, i am a chaotic bisexual disaster, of whom pep!stan's insane stananigans and big sweeping gestures are #Based, so unfortunately, you have to endure my psychosis, RP.

which you often do, you wild and patient and wonderful thing you. <3 i sent you a DM on new years that was way better articulated than this, but when writing peppermint, i made a lot of friends who were readers and that was extremely gratifying, but i felt very isolated from the style writing community on ao3...until you came along. c':

i was also extremely anxious and over encumbered/ill-equipped to handle the stress that came along with the success of my fanfic, but your support throughout my writing journey made that load lighter.

it has been a joy and an honor being your friend and for once, being able to read rather than write -- all 70+ fanfics you have uploaded. which, given that i have written two unfinished ones, the fact that riley has written that many and finished them is astounding. :***

-- they are also brilliant, btw. we seriously don't deserve her. </3

but here's to trying!

and drying those tears for fears of dying, because when you write, you live forever, clever girl. but before i ramble on too long, my salt of the earth ( dissolved in oj ), here, dear, is my birthday gift to you. <3

so...listen. at first i was going to post a whumpshot for you but...the only person i ended up hurting was myself because i couldn't finish. granted, i never finish anything, as we know, but i had a backup plan.

which is this:

i am thankful for all the support i've gotten writing my fanfictions, but riley has been particularly supportive of me, both emotionally, and also regularly wrecks havoc on her poor followers by reblogging my insane niche au ask meme content onto her blog and likes all my stuff, no matter how weird or deranged it is.

i apologize because that's going to happen again, but this time it will hopefully be slightly more relevant because rp is fond of peppermint, and i am very fond of her so i decided...that for riley's birthday, i will be releasing everything i have in my drafts pertaining to…

pep 12. <3

whiiiiiiich is not much, please don't get your hopes up, but i think it is well deserved by you all and on what better occasion than today?

anyways, your cursed limited edition peppermint package includes:

-literally like the first five minutes of the chapter ( i'm not even joking that's how little i've written -- which is still too much -- and how slow )

-this weird thing that i posted on twitter once where stan is thinking about the friendship bracelets and being emo as fuck oh my god, i made a lot of weird metaphors...it's garbage, but...have at it.

-and finally, a very weird fucking flashback from hell that...is the main reason why my update got stalled because i couldn't figure out how to write it and when i started writing it, i got so comfortable in kyle's narration, i fucking *jersey vc* forgot it was stan season and started writing it in kyle's consciousness, then...tried to switch it back to stans...it's a mess. it's also not done like...at all, so you get a little bit of actual writing and actions and thoughts and a lot of...just dialogue. i wasn't sure about giving you guys the whole thing but i'm not sure if its gonna make it into pep, so i wanted to give you guys a chance to read it before i throw it into the fire where it belongs, smh...jail.

again, rp, i know today is a hard day, but i hope this makes it easier. thank you for being born, happy birthday...and i hope you heal, lovie.

but now...dear readers...without further ado, it is time,

to enjoy the very worst part...

...of the very best day. ;)

-uncle neen the queen with the scheme <3

p.s. the computer quality is ass, it looks better on the app, smh.

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮; 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷 𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷

a/n: EVERYONE SAY YOU'RE WELCOME UNCLE NINA FOR NOT KILLING STAN!!! HSDLKD STAN LIVES!!!! BARELY! SMH!!! i'm so sorry you waited so long for...sigh...that...anyways here's this too:

𝔀𝓮𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝔂 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

A/N: wow...so edgy, nina. i wrote that instead of sleeping one night and i did not take my mood stabilizer so that's why it sounds insane. okay, here is this last thing which is...actually so embarrassing, but i love you all and riley specifically, so merry riley's birthday everyone.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓯𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓲'𝓿𝓮 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷

A/N: my kylepilequil!!!! HELLO!!!! HOPE YOU HEAL NATION!!! WHO IS UP BITCH!!!! that was choatic, i am not proud of a lot of that dialogue, particularly kyle being insane ( it was not gonna stay like that i promise...it was a road map...leading where? i have no clue ) but i hope that it thrilled you! please smile, pendejos lmaoooo, rip!

#ITS RILEYS BIRTHDAY #HIP HIP HORAY FOR GAY PPL #its a big day for annoying people aka riley fans aka me #i'm sorry this was insane queen u know how i am #i am physically incapable of not being dramatic as hell #BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERES PEPPERMINT!!!! I LOVE U #IM SORRY THIS IS CRINGE BUT I HOPE U HEAL BABES #im physically cringing at how much i need to rhyme things #like ok go off riddler what the fuck #my hands are over my eyes ur welc or im sorry rp & everyone else #the spelling and wording of all of this is hell #but im too lazy to try and make it better #it is what it is…a draft and flaming hot garbage

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kilojulietsierra · 1 year

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Do You Take This Man? (Ragnar the Younger x OFC - One Shot)

Started watching The Last Kingdom last week and already on season three lol Ragnar was definitly the first Dane that caught my eye

Warnings: 18+ content, they’re Danes so crude talk, marriage negotiations, mentions of violence, first time sex, outdoors sex, slightly au, pregnancy, brief mention of pregnant sex

~~~~

"Ragnar the Younger, It would be a better match than even our father could have wished." Tovah said as he sat by the fire, staring through the flames at his sister.

"It is. I am not arguing that." She snapped back at him, "I'm not arguing the man."

"You're arguing the marriage itself then." He wiped the grease from his hands and pulled another bite of meat from the bone, "Sister I love you, I do. But, i want a woman and Gods knows I cannot suffer another one until you are gone." He laughed as he dodged a stick flying at his head. "Let me hear your argument then."

"I have no argument." She took a bite of her own food. "I only wish to make the decision myself when the time comes."

"You know the choice is yours Teeva. I only ask that... "Her brother sighed deeply, "Do not deny him just for the sake of being a pain in the ass."

~~~

Ragnar Ragnarson, son of Ragnar the Fearless, Sat across from them in the hall that their father had built. Tovah and Teeva sat on either side of the fire, Ragnar between them. A tactic. Teeva wanted to see who he would address more, her or her brother.

He was tall, strong, fearsome and handsome, all things she was pleased to see. But also annoyed, these things would all make it the harder to refuse him if his offer was anything close to respectful.

"So tell me Ragnarson, what would you have my sister for?" The pleasantries, the little that Danes bothered with, aside Tovah got to the heart of the matter. They all knew why Ragnar was here.

Ragnar held her brothers gaze, "I would have her for a wife." He looked to her, calm and steady, "If you speak of price I have brought silver, though I'm sure it is not enough."

"Why do you say that?" Teeva cocked her head to the side.

He spoke to her brother when he said, "I imagine there is not enough silver in all the North, Wessex or Denmark," He then spoke to her, "That could convince Teeva Tovarsdottir to become chained to a man that sought to put her in her place, to claim her and tame her."

"Then why are you here." Her voice was cold as was her gaze but her heart pounded in her chest at the way he held her gaze and quirked the corner of his mouth in a smile.

"Because I am a man who would not do these things." He leaned forward, turned his gaze on her brother. "I was there when our fathers raided Heimsdeep together." Both the siblings flinched, and Ragnar spared them a pause out of respect. "And I was there with you when his man betrayed him there."

Tovah interrupted him, "Our families have always been good and loyal allies."

"And that will not change," His eyes flicked to her and then back, "No matter how this ends."

Tovah nodded deeply, raised his cup of ale in agreement.

Ragnar continued, "I was also there at Moran's, you know this, when the son and daughter of Tovar took their revenge." This time when his eyes landed on Teeva they did not leave, did not waver. Icy green boring into hers, dark and lush like the forest. "I saw you fight with sword and shield and bare hands along side your brother, and along side your father's men. A true shield maiden."

Her cheeks warmed and she hoped it was hidden by the hues of the fire. She had no words so she only nodded her thanks at the compliment.

" Any man that would try to take that fire from her would be doing all Dane's a dishonor. She's afraid I am that kind of man but I am not."

"Then what kind of man are you Ragnar Ragnarson?" Tovah braced his elbows on his knees and leaned towards the other Dane. "What would you give her if you are not these men that would see her... tamed?"

Ragnar smiled and looked away from Tovah, answering his question but clearly speaking to Teeva. "I am a man that would see her with braids in her hair and ink on her skin. I would give her a reputation, lands, a hall, people who would follow her and respect her as they would me. I would give her a good, strong name from a long line of warriors, all of whom would smile down on a woman like this." He was smiling now, tight lipped but a smile nonetheless, creasing his forehead and the corner of his eyes.

Teeva had almost forgotten her brother was in the room, nearly jumped when he asked another question. "And what would you have her give you in return?"

Now he smiled, truly smiled, and it made her nervous. She was certain this is where her silly, fragile fantasy would end.

"I would ask only of her to give me strong sons and clever daughters, a safe hall, respect for my people, and a warm bed at night." He winked with the last, his smile wide and his eyes dancing like the fire before them. "And an extra sword at my side should I need it."

They held each others gaze for a long, silent moment, sizing eachohter up. Teevas heart was pounding in her ears.

Almost as if he had forgotten him too, Ragnar turned back to Tovah. "I know how you care for your sister, and she for you. I wish not to stamp down that fire within her, I would rather stoke it. See her become the woman the gods mean for her to be."

The men shared a long, discerning look of their own before Tovah looked to her over the fire, "Well sister, the man has said his piece, and I am for it. In my eyes this would be a match our ancestors and his would both be proud of."

Teeva studied Ragnar, now slouched back comfortably in his seat, relaxed under her gaze. Dare she say enjoying it.

When she spoke she made sure her voice was clear and strong, "Give me the night to consider."

~~~

The small camp against the hillside was quiet, the fires doused and the men asleep in their furs. Canvas strung from tree branches made for a few simple shelters. On bare feet Teeva crept through the trees, her feet cold but light on the soft ground. She had paid attention, knew which canvas she needed.

He lay on his back, on a single, thick fur, with his arms crossed above his head and his feet propped up on his saddle. He did not snore, did not move or even twitch. His chest rose and fell and was bare, the night air comfortable enough to sleep that way, but a second fur was draped over his lower half.

Standing a few feet away she watched for a long moment, steadying her breath, until she was sure her approach had not awoken him. Then on soft, slow feet, with a dagger in her hand she approached. She paused, within arms reach of him. Satisfied she was still undetected, she moved. Reached for his throat with the blade and to cover his mouth with her hand.

In an instant , the mere beat of a heart, she watched in panic as his eyes snapped open, his lips turned in a smile and she was on her back in the blink of those green eyes, head spinning and the wind knocked out of her.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He whispered, crouching above her, keeping her pinned to the ground.

"Shouldn't you?" She whispered back through gritted teeth.

Ragnar continued to smile as he plucked the knife from her fingers and stuck in the ground next to them. "There are only two reasons for you to be here, I cannot wait to hear which it is?"

Her lungs finally full of air again she breathed deep, noticing the way his eyes jumped from her face to her chest with the motion. When his eyes came back to hers she was smiling back at him, a small, cheeky grin. "I have not made my decision yet."

He sat back on his haunches, keeping only one hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. "Decision? On if you will kill me rather than be my woman?"

"I did not come to kill you Ragnar Ragnarson."

Ragnar could not help but notice how relaxed she seemed in her position, he considered whether it was because she truly feared nothing... or only that she did not fear him. His eyes flicked to the knife again, "The knife leads me to believe otherwise, Leeva Tovarsdottir."

Her smile grew and Ragnar felt something spark within him, deep within him.

"It serves only to make a point."

"And what point was that."

"That I am in control."

He laughed, his grip on her shoulder tightening, as he fought to keep himself quiet. Again, he noticed she did not flinch away from him or his hand. "Says the one on her back."

"Is that not how you would prefer me?" Her eyes were dangerous. Daring, goading him into making a misstep and failing this little challenge of hers.

Ragnar chewed the inside of his cheek, tasting his next words before he spoke them. He let her go, plucked the blade from the earth and wiped it over his breeches. Flipping it gracefully over his fingers before offering it back to her, handle first. "I would have you many ways, all of which I would love to show you, but only if you speak plainly. Why are you here?"

Her face changed. Right before his eyes, so subtle he might have missed it in the darkness if not for their closeness. The warrior in her was gone, even for just a moment, and the girl was there. The pretty young girl, on the eve of a marriage. A nervous, beautiful, young girl.

Teeva fortified herself as much as she could, ignoring the heat in her cheeks and the tightness in her chest. "Is it so outside of reason for a girl to know?"

Ragnars face scrunched, brow furrowed in confusion, "Know what?" He still held the blade in one hand, braced against his bent knee.

She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Noticing with a thrill that this time Ragnars eyes held firmly to her own and did not go wandering. So, there on the ground in his little makeshift tent, surrounded by the furs still warm from his body heat, she told him the truth. "I want to know that I will enjoy it." His face did not change, his brow remained furrowed as he shook his head, still not understanding. "That I will enjoy... being married."

Still, his face remained unchanged, if anything his eyes narrowed more.

"You know... being... with the man I marry." If the earth would open up and swallow her she would have thanked the Gods.

Then, slowly, his face softened, the creases disappeared from his forehead, his eyes widened, and his smirk returned. Holding her eyes captive with his he reached for her right hand and with his own, lifted it to take the handle of the knife he still offered her. He guided her to wrap her fingers around the leather grip and took in the way her breathing had become shallow and rapid. WIthout words he moved, taking her hand that held the knife and guiding it. Until her right arm was stretched to its full length out to the side.

Ragnar, hand still wrapped tightly around hers still holding the knife, leaned in closer. He placed the tip of the blade against the earth and pushed. Slowly, steadily, together they drove the blade into the dirt. His forehead nearly touching hers he finally spoke, "Beautiful girl," His voice was low and rough, his eyes took in her face. He had never been this close to her before and even in the dark of night she was breathtaking. "If you do not enjoy it, you can take that blade and cut my throat."

Teeva gasped, her whole body trembling as Ragnar laid his body over hers and claimed her lips. Their hands fell from the handle of the dagger and found each other instead. Fingers weaving together as Ragnar nipped at her tongue and swallowed down her moans. He moved, steadily, kissing across her face to her ear, taking the lobe of it between his teeth before licking and sucking his way down her neck. "Tell me, is this what you wanted?"

"Yes." She sighed it out, tipping her head back into the furs, fighting for room to breathe. This had been her plan. Truthfully. She had snuck from the hall to lay with Ragnar, but things were not going to plan at all. She was not in control. She had meant to stay in control. Ragnar taking control of her mouth again brought her back to reality.

Her free hand, moving on some sort of baser reflex, moved to dig into his bare, muscled back. It seemed that one small movement spurred him on.

"Tell me beautiful," His voice was raspy, he was sucking in breath like a man emerging from the sea. His eyes drove into hers, "Do you want me to take you? Do you want me to show you what it will be like? To be my woman, to lay with me." His smile came back, his eyes darkened, "Did you come out here tonight to hump me?" Ragnar was near chuckling as he said it. but his one hand still held hers tight and his other was wrapped around her thigh.

She had to fight for the breath and for her voice but she answered him, clearly and truthfully, "Yes."

His smile doubled and for the second time he moved too quickly for her to stop him. Only this time she found Ragnar on his back, smiling up at her where he had her straddling his hips. "Go on then." His hands slid up her thighs to her waist but did not move further.

Again she found herself incredibly bashful, "I have clothes on." She narrowed her eyes at him, motioning to herself, "I'm fully dressed!"

"Does not matter." He chuckled. Carefully he began to move her hips with his hands, pulling her forward, "Ride me."

Her gasp, the expression on her face, as she finally felt the hardness of him beneath her was better in and of itself than half the fucks he'd had as a young man. Her eyes snapped open wide and her hands dropped to his torso to steady herself. He did not wait, continued to move her back and forth over him, Grinding her against his hard cock, watching in awe at the faces she made. Her fingers dug into his torso and he had to grit his teeth to control himself. "Keep going." A groan escaped him as she pressed down against him harder, "Just like that."

Soon she was speeding up, his grip on her no longer controlling her movements. To be honest, Teeva herself, was not even in control of her movements. Her hips moved on their own, chasing whatever that wonderful, tingling sensation was deep between her legs. She was leaned down low over him, her hips rocking back and forth erratically over the press of his cock, the friction of their clothing between them helping her along, "Oh shit, oh... oh gods... what..."

Ragnar snarled through bared teeth, "Yes, you feel it, chase it." He surged up to kiss her, sinking a hand deep into her loose hair and taking a firm grip, moving her how he wanted her. Their mouths clashing together, all teeth and tongues as she moaned and whimpered through her release. Her short nails dug into his sides, hard enough he thought she may truly have drawn blood and a deep, uncontrollable shiver ran the length of his spine. "Gods you are a gift Teeva." He muttered the words against her lips. "So," He kissed her again, "Tell me pretty girl," He kept his hand in her hair, holding her tight, his other hand loose on her hip. "Do you want my cock? " He rolled his hips beneath her and revelled in the way she responded in kind, "Let me show you, hmm," He tugged on her hair, hard enough to tip her head back so that he could mouth greedily at the side of her neck, "Let me show you what I have for you." He rolled his hips again. "Let me show you how I will fuck my wife."

~~~

She was still naked and trembling slightly under the fur, though she was not cold and no longer nervous.

Ragnar lay next to her, propped up on one elbow while his free hand, his sword hand, traced unreadable patterns over her bare back. "So, Teeva, daughter of Tovar," He whisper against the back of her neck as he leaned into her, his hand splayed wide over the small of her back. "What have you decided? Hmm?" He kissed her there and then kissed his way to the shell of her ear, "Have I humped you well enough?" He sucked her earlobe between his lips and smiled when she shivered, "Have I swayed you? Would you marry me? Hmm. Can I have you in my bed every night, pretty girl? Make you my own and let you ride my cock whenever you please?" He chuckled as she groaned a little beneath him, half halfheartedly rolling away from him.

"Stop teasing."

He could not help the wide smile then, tugging her to him and rolling her onto her back. "Never." Ragnar reached a hand up to her face and held her, moving his thumb up to smooth the worry from her brow. "You should know, if you deny me now I'll have no choice but to kidnap you."

Teeva snorted out a laugh but leaned into the touch, "Oh really?"

"I swear it." He kissed the corner of her eye, "You are fierce and strong, beautiful beyond my words," He waited for her to relax and then continued, "And even now, spent as I am, you have my cock harder than forged steel."

She shoved him then, glaring but inside celebrating that such a feared and respected man let her handle him this way. Her eyes fell to the knife she had brought still stuck in the dirt at the edge of his furs, where he had left it, well within her reach if she had needed it. "Are all men this insatiable?"

He did not hesitate to respond, "Only when our women are this irresistible." He winked at her and in return she rolled her eyes. "Tell me now woman, will I ride out of here with you as my wife, or as my captive?"

"You will have to wait and see tomorrow won't you Ragnar Ragnarson?" She kissed him and then crawled out from under the furs to dress as quickly as she could. Hard to do with his hands and lips working against her every step of the way.

~~~

"Earl Ragnar, i hope you slept well." Tovah greeted him and his men as they entered the hall the next morning.

Ragnars eyes did not waver from her brother, but Teeva saw the corner of his lip pull back. "Very well, considering I have been anxiously awaiting an answer." When he did look her way Teeva revelled in the way it made her want to blush and hide as much as it wanted to make her smirk and stand up tall.

After last night she was certain of it. Ragnar was a man that would not treat like a cow to be bred or a slave to keep his hall. He would keep her as his wife, respect her, honor her, fight for her, father her strong sons and clever daughters. He would put her to bed every night satisfied and love her every day of his life. Here and in Valhalla.

Tavah laughed and stood to take Ragnar by the shoulders, "Then you'll be happy. My sisters first words to me this morning were that she accepts the marriage."

Ragnar embraced the slightly older Dane back and smiled, "The gods have honored me," He looked to her then, catching her eye as he continued, "more than I deserve." Ragnar looked back to her brother, slapping him hard on the back as he stepped away and towards Teeva. With a steady hand he cupped her face gently and stroked his thumb over her brow just as he had done last night, "And I promise to live every day of my life so that I honor you in return."

The look in his eyes took her breath away as much as his words had. It was a struggle to speak as she wrapped her hand around his sturdy forearm and met his gaze, "I look forward to it."

~~~

Teeva was laughing so hard that she could hardly breathe, watching as her brothers men and Ragnars men... her husbands men, drank and played games in celebration. Watching as half a dozen men went stumbling through the fire pit and falling on their asses. She laughed as her brother and Ragnar, her husband, laughed and cheered and embraced each other in victory.

Ragnar stepped aside and accepted a mug of ale, still laughing as he raised it to his lips, but he caught her eye as he drank. She was staring at him and married or not he saw the faintest blush at her throat at being found out. She did not look away though and that made his blood sing through him. Leaving others to their games he crossed the yard to where she sat by a fire. Her eyes held his the whole way.

"You certainly look like you're enjoying yourself." She greeted him with a jest and a smile.

Without hesitation he took a knee before her where she sat, placing himself between her legs and leaning into her, his arms braced against the chair on either side of her thighs. From this position he was only a few inches away from her but had to tilt his chin up, just slightly, to look at her. "And you, sitting here with your bright smile and flushed cheeks, hmm? Are you enjoying yourself? Watching?"

"Am I not allowed to enjoy watching? My husband?" She sounded braver than she felt as she spoke, her fingers reaching out to toy with the end of Ragnar, her husbands, beard.

A growl rose low in his throat as he leaned in closer, tugging her to the edge of her seat to meet him, "Say it again."

She lifted the hand not holding her drink to cup his jaw, "My husband."

"Say it louder." Her pulled her flush against him, until she was barely in the seat.

If he had not been looking at her the way he was, she would never have done it. But, his eyes were burning for her and his grip was tight so she raised her voice, "My husband!"

In one easy movement, as if it was nothing, he stood with her, his arms under her ass and hoisting her up until she was at least two heads above the rest of the crowd. "Louder!"

She did not hesitate. With one hand at the back of his head to hold herself steady, eyes still locked with his, she raised her horn of ale in the air and yelled, "My husband!!"

An echoing roar of cheers and laughter rang through the hall and the yard as their people celebrated with them.

Rather than letting her down, Ragnar turned and sat in the seat she had just been sitting in, letting her settle so that she was straddling his lap. Still smiling ear to ear he kept one hand on her ass and stole her drink with the other. He finished the ale in one long gulp and then slammed the horn down next to him, his eyes never leaving hers. "Kiss me wife."

Which she did, her left hand still rested at the back of his head, under the base of his braid, and she used it to pull them together.

The kiss was short and sweet and Ragnar was not having it. When she pulled away he trapped her in his arm. She would say he snarled if it hadn't been so full of adoration, "Like you mean it woman."

The comment earned him a bite on the cheek but the second kiss was well worth it. Teeva pressing herself fully against him as she allowed him to ravage her mouth, giving as good as she got.

~~~

When she woke the next morning the fire had burned low, down to glowing embers, and she knew it was only Ragnar behind her that kept her from shivering. Her eyes focused slowly, her head hurt from the ale, but she glanced around the hall. None of the others had stirred yet. So, carefully, she made to move but the strong arm around her flexed and held her tightly.

"Don't move." He whispered in her ear. She froze. "I'm comfortable." He breathed out a nearly silent chuckle as she relaxed against him, dropping a kiss to her shoulder as she settled back into him.

"The fire is going to die." She whispered over her shoulder. When he did not respond she opened her mouth to say it louder only to have his hand cover her mouth.

Now wide awake, eyes blazing as he turned her to face him. She glared daggers at him.

Ragnars eyes were still half lidded when he mouthed the word, "Hush." Then he removed his hand from her mouth, replacing it with his lips for a fleeting moment before closing his eyes and settling back into the furs spread over the hard, wood floor.

Quieted, but still outraged she turned slightly and bit him hard on the shoulder, clamping down on the skin through the fabric on his tunic.

His eyes shot open, his teeth gritted, bared as he let out a silent hiss at the pain. Ragnar dug his hand in her sleep mussed hair and pulled her face blush with his, whispering harshly, one word through still gritted teeth, "Vixen." Then he was shoving his tongue into her mouth and stealing any smart remarks she may have had before she could say them. Once she was thoroughly breathless he whispered to her, lips brushing the apple of her cheek. "My head hurts. Be quiet, lay down, and let me enjoy having you in my arms."

Her anger, fleeting as it was, dissipated and she dropped a feather light kiss to his lips. Letting out a long, content sigh as Ragnar smiled, closed his eyes, and brought her to lay her head on his chest. Soon finding herself dozing off to the solid, steady beat of his heart and the feeling of his rough fingers massaging her scalp where his hand was still buried in her hair.

~~~

It was a long journey to Dunholm. Many miles spent in the saddle and many nights sleeping on furs laid on the ground. It was worth it though when she topped the final ridge, and she saw it for the first time.

Ragnar had pulled his horse to a stop beside hers as she took it in.

It was bigger than she had imagined, an imposing fortress high on a hill, visible from miles away but impenetrable. Ragnar had told her the story of how they had taken it, how he had claimed his revenge on Kjartan. Teeva knew this stronghold was a source of pride for her husband, and now for her too.

With his usual, tight lipped but soft smile, Ragnar stepped his horse sideways. Moving until his leg was pressed against hers, the horses shoulders pushing together. He placed his right hand on the top of her horses rump and leaned into her space. Her hair brushing his temple as he spoke, "Well, what do you think? Does it suit you? What does Teeva, wife of Ragnar Ragnarsson say about her new home?"

Teeva smiled, turned her head just enough to press their foreheads together. "I will hold my judgement until I've seen the state of the inside."

Ragnar laughed loudly and stole a quick kiss. "We hurry on then."

As the gates swung open Ragnar once again came up close beside her, hand on her saddle and lips against her ear, "Welcome home."

~~~

"Have you night tired of me yet lord?" Teeva laughed, fighting to catch her breath.

Ragnar let out a sound, half groan half laugh. "If you want me to tire of you, you should stop making such pretty sounds while my cock is inside you." To prove his point he thrust into her, hard, moving her further up the bed with the motion, drawing one of those beautiful little gasps from her throat. "See, like that." He began to pick up his pace again, nearly snarling in pleasure as she clawed at the back of his thighs. Urging him forward. Her volume increasing with every snap of his hips.

He still lay on top of her, his cock softening and her fingers massaging the muscles in his back, when they both heard footsteps on the steps outside their rooms. Ragnar growled in annoyance and buried his face in her neck. Choosing to ignore the coming intrusion, instead enjoying the heaving of Teevas chest beneath him and faint aftershocks of her fluttering cunt.

"Ragnar, if you love me, you will kill whoever is about to come to our door." Her fingers moved to the back of his neck and into the loose, disheveled blonde hair he had yet to pull back. As it was far too early to be out of bed.

The Dane chuckled and mouthed at her neck, groaning with the effort of pulling away from her, out of her. He paused, braced above her on solid, swordsman's arms and dropped his forehead to hers, "As my lady wishes."

The knock at the door surprised neither of them, they remained silent. Staring into each others eyes with matching, mischievous smirks. Then from outside, "Earl Ragnar?" was followed by another, louder knock.

Ragnar chuckled, soft puffs of air escaping his nose, and moved to kiss the ink at his wife's temple. A symbol to match his own. Then with more energy and more grace for a man so large, and no longer so young, jumped from the bed grabbed his sword from it's belt striding across the room and opened the door.

The younger Dane was surely shocked to see his chief opening the door sword in hand, naked, cock still half hard and nothing but the scars and ink markings on his chest to cover him.

With a straight and serious face Ragnar spoke, "My wife has instructed me to kill whoever is on the other side of this door. This is your one chance to change my mind. Speak plain and fast." Ragnar heard Teeva behind him laughing quietly but his face remained hard.

"Forgive me sir, but Uhtred Ragnarson is riding to the gate."

With just a nod of his head Ragnar sent the boy away, his face breaking into a smile as he swung the door shut. Approaching his wife and their bed again, leaning is sword against the wall beside it. "This will be a good day."

"And why is that?" Teeva sat up in bed, pulling the furs around her against the winter cold, welcoming Ragnar into them as he came back to the bed.

Pushing her down to her back he kissed her, then kissed her throat, and her breast. "Because," he looked up from where he was pressing kisses over her belly, his large, rough hands cradling the small bump there, "My wife, the love of my soul is growing another strong, fair haired, green eyed, fearsome son in her belly." He crawled the length of her naked body to kiss her. And when he pulled away he was still smiling, "And today is the day my little brother finally comes back to be where he belongs"

~~~ The End ~~~

First time writing for this fandom but I already have a few ideas for other stories! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!

#the last kingdom #ragnar #ragnar x ofc #Ragnar the younger #ragnar the younger x ofc #Ragnar the last kingdom #Ragnar Ragnarson #ragnar ragnarsson #ragnar ragnarson x ofc #ragnar fanfiction #the last kingdom fanfic

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tearsofperseides · 1 year

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Hi, haven't posted in a hot second, but my drafts are full of unfinished essays im writing so I got that goin' ejhdskhdak

Anyway, Ronance in different universes!!

The most obvious one, let's get it out of the way. Lumity! I mean come on! The "little miss perfect" character and an "obviously neurodivergent outcast sweetheart with a heart of gold" character??? They both start out not liking each other, specifically on the Nancy/Amity side, but then Robin/Luz wins them over by being their themself. Also the fact I've noticed their respective styles are very similar, the way they react to things is very similar. Barb is Willow and Hunter is Steve.

Daphne and Velma! Admittedly I don't have as much of a strong point on these as I have with Lumity, mainly because I haven't consumed that much Scoody Doo content in the recent years (I really wanna get into it, but I don't have the time). Idk, again, as I said, not much of a strong argument here, my friend and I were talking about a Scooby Doo AU and Daphne fits Nancy and Velma fits Robin within that context bsdjahi.

Caitvi/Piltover's finest! LET ME TELL YOU BECAUSE I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS! Vi is definetly more season 3 Robin than season 4, BUT THAT MAKES IT EVEN BETTER! S3 Ronance is so fun and it has a special place in my heart (specifically because I did start shipping Ronance in s3). For Nancy and Caitlyn it's somewhat obvious? Both upper class women who are viewed by both their parents and society as pretty, uptight, not having any experience with the real world, prisses, but are in fact much more than that and both of them know how to shoot guns. I am also attracted to both of them ahdskjn. Vi and Robin are both snarky and sarcastic little shits (affectionate). Also coming back to the whole didn't like each other in the beginning thing.

The Mothership! I mean... this one's pretty obvious

Simmosa, I miss them so much. The point that applies to all of these is that "the Nancy one" didn't like "the Robin one". Same goes with this ship, Amy did not like Jonah and his ramblings in the beginning, but then later on fell in love with him for it aksdhjsa Jonah rambles, like a lot, he might give Robin a run for her money with how much he actually rambles, he also gets really flustered around Amy and they are just overall always together, no matter if Amy doesn't like him or not and same goes with Nancy and Robin.

Yulivia, as my friend said "just a tall, loud impulsive girl and the girl who makes sure she doesn't get them killed" which... accurate. Also Lady Olivia with a gun, pew pew!

and the last one, my favorite

Emisue!!!!! Now listen, is this projection? Maybe, maybe it is, maybe it isn't, we shall never know. BUT THEY ARE SO THEM!!! The potential is astronomical!! Ok let's start with the obvious basics, Emily and Robin are "the talkers", while Sue and Nancy are "the listeners". Emily's brother Austin is in love with Sue, they are together. Emily feels guilty that she is in love with his brother's wife, but her feelings for Sue are stronger, however she feels an insane amount of guilt and we see that throughout the show, all of this just reminds me of Steve, Robin and Nancy (that being said, why isn't anyone doing anything about that?? Write a fic like that asap and send it to me/hj). Sue/Nancy has tried to push Emily/Robin away, but they just couldn't, because they always in some way found their way back to each other (putting that in quotes for Ronance because they are not canonically together). Suppression of emotions, not just romantic, but any, is both a very prominent trait in both Sue and Nancy. And I could go on and on about how both Sue and Nancy's trauma is overlooked and she's seen as a bitch by many, while Emily and Robin get away with a lot more, but I digress.

That was it! I'm sure there's more, these are just my favourites!

#ronance #nancy wheeler #amity blight #daphne blake #caitlyn kiramman #dana scully #amy sosa #lady olivia #sue gilbert #robin buckley #luz noceda #velma dinkley #vi arcane #fox mulder #jonah simms #general yunan #emily dickinson

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banooky · 9 months

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very quick, very brief, post because as much as i love song analysis i haven’t actually torn the lyrics apart to have enough content for a proper analysis like i normally would. however comma!! shameless (camila cabello) as a twifury/vivikou song. very brief rundown of why (if i am yelled at enough i will make a long version and/or do more of these for other ships and fandoms)

the first verse, if you don’t know (maybe not everyone has heard the song but i gotchu), goes like this:

the first verse mostly makes me think of vivia, as we had… literally no fuckin clue what vivia’s deal is until chapter 4. but we find out after the mystery labyrinth that vivia knew a lot about everyone else because he was just,, super casually using spectral projection to peek at everyone the entire time. (kinda hilarious.) yuma makes a comment to shinigami about how vivia seems to, at minimum, hold yakou in high regard, especially about how vivia spilled the tea on yakou’s personal life story basically kjjkwke… it really feels like vivia kept things a secret for yakou’s sake, (how fruity), cause “i didnt know what he was reading” is honestly bullshit once you think of how spectral projection works. vivia dont lie, you peeked over yakou’s shoulder then blew on his ear so it would tickle. fruitcake

and now verse 2, obviously, makes me think of yakou a bit more! knowing his history; former self-proclaimed lady’s man, NOT a master detective (just some dude), and - brief chapter 4 spoiler - a widow, his confidence is, well… kinda no better than a fart in the wind, is probably what the blue goofball would say. he would definitely see vivia as out of his league! never married, mysterious, entrancing, and definitely able to read yakou like a book. i could absolutely say yakou was uncomfortable the first time they were together, in a good way, and might’ve even had sleepless nights after that. but he misses his wife, of course (we all cried during chapter 4 don’t lie to me), and it would definitely be the only thing making him hesitate pursuing vivia. you can’t convince me yakou cares about workplace professionalism

this brings me to the chorus, which i will also connect a bit more to yakou - i’m gonna put a cut here to protect my friend from full-on chapter 4 spoilers muahahaha

so: vivia thrives on self-indulgence and likely would accept any and all of yakou’s advances. on the other hand, even though it has been 4 years, part of yakou still wants to be tethered down by the vows he made to his wife - and he feels like he owes some form of revenge on dr. huesca to her. but, maybe she fades from his mind (never his heart, obviously); and he starts seeing vivia’s hauntingly beautiful smile when he closes his eyes. he doesn’t want to let his wife go, but something inside of yakou stirs when he makes eye contact with vivia. and, maybe in a happy ending au AGGRESSIVE COUGHING he finally gives in and puts all his energy into protecting vivia instead.

i’d love to see yakou fly into a furious rage if he ever found out yomi hit vivia with that whip-cane-thingy!

feel free to share thoughts :)

#yes had i done this properly the way i like doing it it wouldve been LONGER #song analysis #master detective archives: rain code #mdarc #rain code #viviakou #twifury #vivia twilight #yakou furio #master detective archives spoilers #they are in love #and consuming me help #i think i’ve lost it yall i officially have gone insane OOPSIES

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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The Stranger 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your grandmother sends you into town for groceries. Mads, the old welder from down the road, drives you in with your wagon, dropping you off on his way to the next county. His son lives in the next hamlet with his new wife. Their wedding was the last big event in Hammer Ford.

Mads helps you unload the wagon from the bed of his truck and bids you a goodbye. You hope he enjoys his visit with Matthias, he seems to miss him. You wave at his departure before you set off down to the grocer.

You mill the aisles as you follow the list your grandmother gave you. Nothing beyond the usual haul. If only her old car hadn’t broken down. It seems everything around you is at a limit. You feel it all commingling as inevitability looms. Something’s gotta give.

You turn into the dairy section, searching out the plain Skyr. You squint at the selection, looking for the decisive blue banner. You reach for a container but quickly shy away as another mirrors your movement. You back up and stare at the rest of the selection, waiting for the other shopper to grab their yogurt and go.

“You like this stuff?” The rocky voice rolls through you.

You wince. It’s familiar. Well, around here, it’s bound to be. You peer over at the other customer. That man. The newcomer. The one you brought the pie too.

You shrug and claim a container of your own and put it in the wagon. You just want to get this done with. You have to drag the wagon all the way back to your grandmother’s. It’s better than walking both ways but still a trek.

“Is it better than Greek?” He asks.

You tug the wagon across the aisle and look at the cheese. He sighs. You hear the dull clack of the plastic tub set back on the shelf. His shadow lurks behind you.

“Did I do something? Say something?” He wonders as he steps in front of you.

You ignore him and grab a brick of cream cheese. You add it to your load. His sole squeaks on the floor and he rests his hand on the shelf.

“Look, I think maybe we got off to a bad start. I’m Chris, what’s your name?”

You blanch and blink at him. Why is he bothering you? Can’t he see you’re utterly hopeless?

You mutter your name, thinking it might just make him leave you alone. He’s being nice but you’re not ready for this. Entirely unprepared for him or a conversation. He’s a stranger, even if you do know his name.

“I like that,” he says, “pie was good.”

You frown and shake your head before you realise what he means.

“Grandma baked it,” you say plainly.

“Oh. You live with her?” He wonders.

You nod and grab the handle of the wagon again, “excuse me, sir.”

You bow your head and try to step past him. He doesn’t move. His cart is on the other side of the aisle, penning you in.

“I’ll have to say thank you. It was very nice of you to walk all the way up there.”

“Sir,” you look down at the list, a subtle way of saying you’re busy.

“You walk all the way here?” He leans to look around you at the wagon, “I could give you a lift back. I still owe you.”

“It’s okay,” you barely get your voice above a whisper. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. He’s being perfectly pleasant but you just want to disappear. “Thanks.”

“Right,” he crosses his arms, “well, just try not to get lost in the woods.”

You wince and peer up at him. Your cheeks burn and you drop your eyes shamefully at the allusion of your previous gaff. You don’t think you’ll be taking the same short cut again.

“I’m kidding,” he says, “sorry, I… I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Look, if you don’t need a ride, maybe I could buy you a slice of pie from that bakery down the road. Then we can call it even.”

You rock back and forth. You push your hand down to hide the tremble in it, pressing the list against your stomach. You take a breath and look him in the face, just for a moment before you shy away and end up talking to the collar of his shirt.

“Even?” You echo.

“Sure,” he agrees, “pie for a pie.”

Your cheek pinches at the bad pun. You nod and sway, glancing back at your wagon.

“I gotta finish,” you crinkle the paper as you wave it.

“Right, me too,” he drawls, “I’ll meet ya there?”

You sniff and nod. You got his name, that means you can appease your grandmother, and you can get him to leave you alone for good. Even, done. No more reason to bother you. Besides, you wouldn’t mind sitting down before you head back down the country roads.

“Okay,” you murmur softly.

“Promise,” he insists.

“Mhmm,” you hum and put your nose down to the list, “excuse me, I gotta grab more sugar.”

“Of course,” he sidles out of the way, moving to stand behind his cart, crossing his arms against the bar, “what kinda pie do you like?”

You hesitate before dragging the wagon forward. Your mind is racing. You’re already regretting your surrender.

“Apple,” you utter and roll down the aisle. He repeats the word in his silty tone, toying with it as he hums.

You turn down the next row as you hide behind the list. You think of just heading out with what you have and seeing if you can’t get a head start before he can catch up. No, no. You already made a mess of this. It won’t take much more for him to realise you’re a disaster better left alone.

#the stranger #destroyer!chris #dark chris #dark!chris #destroyer!chris x reader #destroyer #backwoods au #au #series #drabble

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owls-den · 2 years

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I'm binge watching Pokemon X and Y with my best friend (already 66 episodes in in less than a week WOOP) and here are my observations (obviously, spoilers for a, what, 8 years old anime series?):

Serena's arc is VERY similar to the arc I want to give Trip in my Trip as Coordinator fanfic (that I'll name "Chip on my Shoulder", yes I've decided AT LAST and it's finally in the making!! Currently 200 words in lol). So that was very interesting to see and I can't wait to discover how they handle it.

I love how "contests" are made in this and I'm 100% going to take some inspiration from it for my own contests in the fanfic to create a weird mix between the usual contests and Kalos'.

Episode 63 was the best one I've seen honestly. THE ROCKETSHIPPING CONTENT WE GOT!!! I just love when Team Rocket is portrayed with something other than just... villains of the day. They have a lot of depth and this really showcased Jessie as a character as well as James. They're just so made for each other why did no one ever write a soulmate au with these two lieksfhdjhf

Speaking of which: Team Rocket appears way too much. LIKE WAY TOO MUCH. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But I did hear it got better in Alola so I'll just bear with it.

Every time they try to make me feel emotional, I cry. Unless it's Serena, then I'm laughing my ass off. I'm so SO SO sorry but when she started having flashbacks when Feneckin couldn't go across a puddle to save its own life and said "You've always defended me! It's my turn to save you!" I started wheezing like never before. Funniest shit I've ever seen. The contrast in tone with the obstacle being a puddle? Absolute comedy gold. Same for when she goes to cut her hair and sees her life flash before her eyes. I had tears in my eyes by the end and my stomach was hurting. I love you so much Serena but oh my god that's just hilarious.

JESSIE SHOULD HAVE WON THE FIRST CONTEST, I'M SORRY BUT THAT WAS THE MOST CREATIVE COSTUME EVER THAT WAS SO FREAKING COOL!!! JUSTICE FOR JESSIE!

Tierno is incredible. I didn't think much of him in the game but he got a GLOW UP in the series.

Once again, I LOVE Serena, but I am not much of an Amourshipper honestly. Like it's cute but I feel like Ash is just very much so uninterested. I ship her way more with Elle honestly. She's such a bi disaster man Serena my beloved. Seriously, Elle and Serena went more on a date than Ash and Serena went on a date in the episode... saying that they're going on a "date". Idk it's a cute shipping but I really don't think Ash is into her.

WHY IS CLEMONT SINGLE HE IS THE ULTIMATE MALE WIFE??? Seriously. Also had a shower thought that his robot having both his malewife aspect and Ash's battle determined spirit makes him their son, don't @ me, I'm right.

This is a genuinely cute series at time. I'll often say something edgy to my friend about it and then retract it because it's just cute.

James centric episodes are what dreams are made out of. James believes so much in his pokemons like his Inkay I cried... A lot... WHY AM I GETTING EMOTIONAL-

Oh my god the whole Malamar episodes are so eldritch in nature what the actual hell I was not prepared.

I have no real opinion on Bonny. She's ok and sometimes pretty adorable.

Hawlucha my beloved <3

I have the uncanny ability to predict everything the second before they happen. Choosing to bingewatch this with someone who has seen the series before is probably the best decision I've ever made.

My conclusions is that so far, well it's full of filler, but that's normal. The episodes range from pretty eh to actually pretty good and entertaining! I like the character dynamics, they're great. Can't wait to see the rest! I don't know if it's high compliment, but it's an awesome series to put in the background while cooking, chatting with friends, shiny hunting... We watch in japanese with subtitles and comment as we go through 10 hours sessions at a time. It has a lot of flaws but man, I forgot how great the anime was at making me care for pokemons. Pokemon used to be my comfort anime and now I remember why after taking a 11 years long break from it. Maybe I'll even rewatch Best Wishes once I've caught up to Journey.

#pokeani #pokemon anime #pokemon xy #pokemon thoughts #pokemon anime spoilers #owl rants

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noritoshiikamo · 3 years

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WE! NEED! KAMO! NORITOSHI! AS! A! FATHER! AU!

hddjjdjdb MAAM I REALLY DO WANT TO WRITE NORITOSHI AS A FATHER but jddjjdjd my nori content dont get much attention and im tad demotivated to write especially on him so djdjdj but enjoy my tiny hc of how i imagine him as a father if i ever write about him again

noritoshi kamo dad thing:

likes the idea of having kids in even number (2,4,6 etc etc) so no one be left behind or ignored

like the idea of having twin

prolly would have 2 girls (itching to have more)

breaking clan norm by having first born female that carries his clan inherited blood manipulation technique

train his kids better than he was trained before, less emotional and physical abuse

prolly a strict but lowkey cool dad vibe

keeps picture of his kids in wallet AND the back of his phone vibez

drives around the neighbourhood just to make the babies sleep

likes to let his kids explore shits like not force them to just master weaponry or jujutsu like go head take an art class his kids prolly take advantage of that by signing up for multiple classes and abandoning but hes rich so its okay

always make it for every moment. archery competition? he’s there. piano performance? he’s coming. gymnastics competition? he’s there. parent-teacher conference? he’s there. daughter for called into principal’s office for beating a kid up? he’s there proudly

accidentally become committee of his kids’ parent-teacher club

his clan can talk shit about him but he would beat them up the moment they talk about his wife or kid

he tied his bangs people he surely knows how to time his kids hair!!! would save tutorials from youtube and practise on his kids hair!!! which lead to:

THE FACT THAT HE WOULD WEAR SCRUNCHIES AROUND HIS WRIST ALONG WITH HIS WATCH!!! KEEP SCRUNCHIES IN HIS CAR!!! JUST RANDOMLY PRODUCE SRUNCHIES WHEN ANYONE ASK FOR HAIR TIES

would spent an hour of his every night in his kids’ room just talking!! even if hes tired and he wont even talk he just listen to his first born talking about how she’s getting good with her bow and how his second born is squeamish with blood. would read stories if asked. sometimes would talk about his day instead while his daughters listen attentively.

“you know,” he said, gently twirling the braided hair between his finger, “it’s okay if you don’t want to do the family thing. i’m not going to force you but i hope you can understand why are you going to be so important to me and our family.” he looked down to the sparkling eyes of his first born, lips pursed and concern in her face. “i-i’m not sure i’ll be good enough.” she said quietly, face slowly warmed up. he smiled, “you’ve always been enough to me and your mother. just, enjoy your life for now okay? it’s okay to be a child first, heiress later. i’m still here to take care of you.” he planted a kiss on her head, gently tucking her into the bed. “you don’t need to grow up too fast okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, his daughter nodded eagerly. he caught her gentle i love you, murmuring his own before heading to the door.

would let his kids have more options on their own lives, he’s there to help financially and emotionally

would use the kids to make his s/o jealous, dropping picture to his s/o at work with the kids with caption “on date without u lol” but would pick his s/o later for lunch with kids to make up

deffo the type who would kiss the scraps on knees, while his s/o calmed the kid down and just heal the wound without the kids knowing and be like look at you all healed, you’re such a strong girl and if the kids just start crying even louder he would take over and they’ll just be quiet in his arms in few minutes

would fall asleep with his kids in arms in random places in the house

could be in conference call on one ear and still holding his youngest in his arms

damn good at colour coordinating with his little family ✨aesthetic noritoshi kamo✨

just overall best dad ever 10/10 i wish i have one am i projecting in this one idk man probably

bonus, just me and my breeding kink talking, nsfw:

ceo of breeding kink™

just his wife round and full with his kids!!!! let him have more kids (responsibly ofc)

if the kids are out he likes to gamble and like to have a quickie in the most public places like she’ll be panicking and like “kids coming home soon” face down on the kitchen counter, tits out and hes just taking his time like the kids not gonna burst in any minute

the hand over mouth, holding tears, legs trembling, whispering “if youre too loud they going to hear” kind of fucking

s/o will definitely 100% get pregnant or he will put her back in her place (on his dick) wink wink

im projecting again can u see it

#jdkdndjdj #im on mobile #writing: request answered #writing: hcs #djjdjdjjfjfjkf #sorry anon i really wanna write nori but yall arent into it #cries #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi kamo #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk noritoshi

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terushimooo · 3 years

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ONE MONITOR APART

Camming Au — Ikkei x f!reader — Prompt: Ikkei + Viagra

T/w: soft yandere, massive age gap (20 vs 69.), old man/geriatric content, Viagra use, consensual “cucking/infidelity” (brief mention of your partner — who I say allows you to cam), masturbation (m and f — both on and off-screen), slight breeding kink, kind of a crack fic, kind of angsty, Ikkei may or may not die in the end - you can decide

W/c: 13.7k

Summary: It’s the luck of a draw, that and hundreds of dollars sunk into a ludicrous website. Finally, Ikkei has to opportunity to meet, and fuck, his longtime obsession. You’re the love of his life; a cam girl he met on Chatsirbate. Being with you is everything he’s always dreamed of, and as the saying goes, he’s so happy he could die...

A/n: I know you’ve all been waiting for this. Don’t lie, you like it. As a self-declared geriatric blog, I am proud to present my very first Ikkei fic <3. I am no longer #fake. Thank you Miki for allowing me to participate in this collab and thank you to all the fans for supporting this journey, and to @rocorambles and @temptemi for beta reading! They really, really, saved this piece. Please give them a follow, and check out everyone else’s pieces for the Intoxicated collab - HERE!!!

Note: 100 coins = 1 $

Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that — the house is empty.

Walking through the threshold, keys hanging limp from his lanyard, Ikkei makes his way into his dark and worn-down home. There’s no cat to greet him, no sign of a home-cooked meal, and no wife waiting in the hallway, routinely asking about his day at ‘work’.

Ikkei’s life is far from perfect. It’s empty, unfulfilling, and his glory days are a thing of the past. But maybe he can live with that, and maybe he can cope. He might even be able to manage the passage of time, the overwhelming failures beginning to pile on top of his everyday life — but if only he has you.

Only if he has his soulmate.

He needs you by his side, and he needs you to understand; this is where you’re meant to be. It’s where you’ve always belonged.

Ikkei, with his weary old body and his broken soul, wants nothing more than to come home to a fantasy. To you — his perfect, beautiful, and elusive little princess. He knows it would work out, and he knows you two would be perfect. If only you’d give it a shot. If only you’d give him a chance.

Ikkei knows you’d be happy; you just have to trust him. Falling into a seamless routine, with the love of your life standing right by your side — that’s only to be expected.

He’s confident you won’t disagree. Being with him, you wouldn’t even have to try. Ikkei’s already got it all planned out, your whole life categorized into a rigid, well-thought-out schedule. There’s no need for you to exert yourself, and you’ll likely never have to work another day in your life. Not outside of his home, and certainly not on the lewd site you currently occupy.

From the moment you open your eyes in the morning, to the moment you close them at night, Ikkei’s accounted for every second of every day. Even your “off” times are filled with menial tasks. But don’t worry, you’ll like it!

He knows you will.

Because after all, no one knows you better than Ikkei. Not your estranged parents, not your aloof boyfriend — not even yourself. It’s what he’s convinced himself after years of watching, after years of waiting. Some might call it stalking, but Ikkei calls it love; he calls it necessary.

After all he’s seen, Ikkei’s confident it won’t be hard for you to adapt. Settling into his home, becoming accustomed to your new life — the transition will be easy; ideally void of any fear. There’s no need for it. Not as long as you realize what he’s sacrificed. Not as long as you take into account that everything he’s done, he’s done for you.

When the time finally comes, and Ikkei snatches you away from your unfulfilling life, he wants you to be as comfortable as possible. He needs you to cooperate, to embrace your role as his wife, as the mother of his children.

He can already picture the smile beaming across your youthful features, pussy dripping with his seed, stomach round with his children. Ikkei can practically feel the warmth of your embrace as you realize just how loved you are, as you realize you’re finally safe.

He just hopes that it’s enough. He hopes that he’s enough… not that it would matter either way.

Ikkei aches for your presence, and he’ll do anything to get it. It’s what he tells himself as he lifts his phone to check the time, desperate to make sure he hasn’t missed your specially slotted time.

He winces as the blue light burns his eyes, as it casts the room in a cold, harsh light.

7:35 PM.

A pang of panic spreads throughout the old man’s body as he lowers the brightness and turns on the forward flashlight of his barely functional device.

Ikkei was hoping to be home earlier so he could get ready, so he could look extra nice when he sees you tonight. But with only 25 minutes left until the start of your stream, he knows that this will just have to do.

It’s disappointing to say the least, Ikkei would’ve worn something much nicer if he knew he was going to be out so late. Instead, he’s stuck in his coaching attire; grey sweats, a white t-shirt, and the Karasuno boys’ volleyball jacket hanging loosely around his hips.

And even though he knows you won't be able to see him through your screen, and even though you likely wouldn’t care either way, Ikkei thinks it’s important to always be prepared, to put in the time, the effort — even going as far as trying to impress his partner, invariably.

He knows he doesn’t have much to offer, but in his dreams, he’s sufficient. In his dreams, the two of you keep each other going. Ikkei imagines you’ll overwhelm his life, seeping into all the cracks, all the nooks, and all the crannies of his rigid and torn-up existence.

To this delusional old man, your name is synonymous with loyalty — even though he knows you have a boyfriend.

Loyalty is something that Ikkei hasn’t felt since his days competing with Yasufumi, and it’s something he yearns to recapture as his days begin to draw to a close. He deludes himself into thinking you’ll love him, despite never having met — and he tells himself it’s more than enough to make you stay.

There’s no reason for you to leave, and there’s no reason for you to look elsewhere. Not when Ikkei can give you everything you want, and everything you deserve.

He only asks that you prove your dedication, that you present yourself to him, a supple body waiting eagerly on display, ready to serve your dutiful husband.

A broken sigh leaves his lips as Ikkei shifts back to reality, his eyes scanning the dusty floors and the scattered debris with a sheen of sadness.

He wants to do something about it, he knows this is no place for a newlywed bride. But that’s easier said than done. Especially when he lives in denial of reality.

He can’t keep living like this, like a disgusting slob. Ikkei knows this — but his pride, his achy bones, and his tensing muscles — they beg for just a moment's relief. And then a moment turns to two, then three, then four, and then all of a sudden, Ikkei’s forgetting there’s even a problem needing to be solved.

He’s not as young as he used to be, and not as strong as he remembers. Ikkei’s legs almost give out beneath him as he bends to undo his shoes, knees cracking and a bead of sweat building on his brow as he makes his way downwards.

It's embarrassing.

Even just getting back up, trudging his way through the unlit house — it feels impossible. In moments like these, in these moments of weakness, Ikkei’s glad he lives alone.

“Shit,” he curses to himself, frustration welling in the base of his chest as he stumbles around the broken home.

A hip slamming into the edge of a counter has Ikkei reeling in pain. Pushing at the saggy flesh with swollen fingers, he only scoffs. Lucky for him, it seems like nothing’s broken. He’ll probably get away with a bruise, surely some tender flesh, but nothing serious. Again, not that it matters.

Even if he did hurt himself, so what? No one comes around anymore, no one even cares.

Ikkei’s not a monster, and just like everyone else, he wants people to love him. He wants them to care. Not because they’re forced to, and certainly not out of pity — but because it comes naturally, because they feel a genuine compassion.

But Ikkei’s smarter than that. He knows that he’s no one's priority, and he knows that maybe, ending up in this situation is his own fault.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Ikkei’s probably the reason for his own isolation. And it wouldn’t be impossible to conclude that in his efforts to appear independent and competent — to convince his friends, his family, and even just strangers on the street that he's okay — he could be lashing out…

It’s a vicious cycle. One he’s very aware of, but one he just can’t seem to break.

It’s the reason why he’s all alone. It’s the reason why his life has fallen into shambles.

Ikkei understands this, and he sees the obvious solution, but his pride won’t let him change. Sadly, he can’t turn back time, and he can’t take back the words he’s already said.

The silence of his house, the slow drips of a broken faucet, and the cold drafts of a westward wind, all of it reminds him just how forgotten he really is. Winter will be here soon, and without renovations — without another body to help out, to keep him sane, and to keep him warm — Ikkei knows he probably won't last. He can’t help but wallow in a moment of self-pity as he contemplates how he ended up here.

If his life continues like this, then what is there left to live for? What’s keeping him alive?

It’s you.

It’s always you.

These days, everyone else is always too busy, claiming they have bigger, better, and more important things to focus on than some old, frail, washed-up coach. The Lil’ Tykes Volleyball Classroom, Karasuno, even his grandson — no one sticks around once they’ve gotten what they want. No one except for you.

You’re the only one who's present, the only one who’s there.

It takes everything he has — every ounce of patience, willpower, and sheer determination, not to give up. How can he when people rely on him, when you rely on him?

Ikkei tsks, carefully climbing his creaking steps, hands reaching out to feel what’s in front of him. A bitter resentment builds in his chest as his phone begins to flash, the device buzzing rapidly in his swollen hands.

It’s Keishin, his good-for-nothing grandson. Before it can reach voicemail, and before it can even trill again — Ikkei hits the big red button, ending the call without even bothering to check what Keishin wants.

It seems hypocritical, Ikkei saying he’s all alone and then having his grandson call him, only to ignore him moments later. But it’s justified, truly. Ikkei knows that Keishin’s only doing this for his own self-interest.

It’s the same with those annoying healthcare workers, always badgering him. His other relatives too, they’re all constantly trying to force him into senior homes, saying it’s the best option for everyone. But they’re all just doing this for themselves, not taking what he wants into the slightest bit of consideration.

These group homes, these retirement villages, his constant admittance to the hospital — it’s all just an excuse. It’s a way for his lazy grandson to get his grandpa off his back, to steal his house, to take his fortune.

Yeah, his fortune.

Ikkei chuckles maniacally to himself at such a crazy concept. How rich can he possibly be if he can’t afford to turn on his lights, if he can’t hire someone to clean his home?

Ikkei’s old, but he’s not completely senile. He knows what these so-called senior “resorts'' entail, and he understands the schemes his relatives are plotting even before he’s reached his deathbed. He’s seen the commercials, he’s read the pamphlets, and he’s heard the horror stories. These places, they’re for old people, for sick people — and Ikkei isn’t old or sick. He’s just, seasoned…

So when Ikkei finally makes it to his room, chest heaving with harsh pants and lungs gasping for a taste of oxygen, he tells himself that this is nothing. Even the most seasoned athletes get tired sometimes.

He tries his best to live in this land of illusion, to recapture the image of youth, but the fantasy only goes so far, and time waits for no one.

It’s easy to hide the small things, the thin sheen of sweat building on his brow, the throbbing of his feet, even the rattle of his chest to some extent. But he can’t hide everything, and certainly not forever. It’s impossible to mask the shake of his hands, the slight limp in his stride, or the chronic ache in his hunched-down spine.

It’s only when he sits, when he slumps his body against his orthopedic chair, that literal tears of relief begin to pool across his eyes. It’s at times like these, in the silence of his room, away from the rest of the world, that Ikkei’s forced to face reality. These are the only times he lets himself be vulnerable.

Achy bones and tense muscles are all the gray-haired man can think of as he reaches towards his desk, as he flicks on his ageing lifeline. The shake of a well-used mouse and the clacking of a worn-down keyboard brings to life the only device that connects him to the rest of the world, to what’s really important — to you.

The loud noise of his computer both startles and brings this old man immeasurable joy. There’s a pain in his lips as they begin to crack with happiness, a smile stretching widely across his sagging and wrinkly features. The computer’s slow to turn on, and even slower to connect itself to the internet.

As the clock continues to tick in the corner of his monitor, Ikkei begins to bounce his foot in nervousness.

7:48 PM.

Time is clearly not on his side, and to highlight that point, Ikkei almost blunders the most important part of his whole evening.

It’s not entirely his fault. His mind is filled with you, completely forgetting the little blue pill sitting just off to the side of his mouse. If not for his stray hands clumsily knocking the tablet to the floor, he never would’ve remembered.

While Ikkei is grateful that his carelessness allowed the medication to be brought to his attention, he can’t say he’s all too happy with bending down to retrieve it. With an outstretched hand, and a back groaning and cracking in protest, Ikkei lets out an irritated growl.

It’s not a matter of being able to see it. The light from his computer catches brightly on the pill, taunting and teasing the old man for another one of his many shortcomings. Ikkei’s hands are just much too swollen, and they’re much too sore to pick up the tiny capsule.

It’s degrading, and it’s humiliating, but seeing as this is the last pill he has left, Ikkei knows he can’t waste it. Not when he has such a special night planned, not when you’re expecting to see him.

Swallowing his pride, Ikkei drops to the hardwood floor on his hands and knees. A pained groan leaves his body as his joints and limbs cry from the sudden impact. Ikkei’s arms begin to violently shake as his frail figure leans closer to the floor. He sticks out his slimy tongue to scoop up the forgotten pill. It’s almost a miracle he doesn’t collapse to the floor in exhaustion, especially after a long day of spiking a volleyball to his team.

Ikkei almost vomits in his feeble attempt to pick it up. He missed the pill completely with his tongue and instead, ends up with a mouthful of forgotten dust and hair. His only saving grace is that he doesn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, and he doesn’t have time to fuck around.

In a fit of determination, he drops back down and continues to lap at the grimy floor until he feels the 50 mg pill begin to dissolve on his tongue, until he swallows it down his throat.

When he’s finally seated back at his desk, there’s not much time left for him to get ready, to navigate his way across the internet. It doesn’t help that he can hardly see, the font already as large as it can go and his screen practically burning at his retinas.

There’s a thin layer of dust coating the large display in front of him, and the tower beneath his desk isn’t faring any better. Perhaps if he cleaned it, maybe then he could see better. Maybe then the computer might run a little faster, or work a little better. But Ikkei prefers it this way, he likes the thin haze covering the otherwise reflective monitor. He can’t stand to see his reflection when the screen turns black. Catching a glimpse of his aged, ragged features, is a cruel reminder of what he isn't. At least this way, with the grimy particles sticking to the display, his image is distorted.

With only moments left on the clock, Ikkei manages to make it to his favourite browser. If there’s one thing he’s grateful for, it’s bookmarks and technology’s autofill section.

Almost on instinct, Ikkei drags his cursor over the soft pink logo, the icon affiliated with his favourite camming site — Chatsirbate.

If anyone were to look at his hard drive, they’d see hours and hours of saved videos, images, and conversations downloaded from this site.

None of that even takes into account his internet history. All the hours he’s logged just aimlessly scrolling, watching numerous streams, of numerous women. But no one, not a single one of them, could ever compare to you.

That’s why he’s scrolling through the page, eyes darting for a specific profile. Ever since your fateful meeting, on the night where he accidentally clicked your ad, his life’s been changed forever. With your kind words, your compassionate nature, your soft eyes — and not to mention the elegant way you carry yourself in front of a camera — you’ve effectively ruined his heart for any other woman.

Old eyes begin to gain new life as they scan over your name, as they trace over your signature avatar. He almost hesitates before clicking your profile page, too awestruck to even comprehend the click of a finger. But the sudden red dot flashing on and off in the corner of your profile picture startles him enough to take action. Entering your lobby, with just a minute to spare, Ikkei breathes a deep sigh of relief.

Usually, he likes to be first; he has this theory that his punctuality helps him stand out. With your chat log already swarmed with interaction, Ikkei knows it'll be hard for you to notice his arrival amongst the constant stream of notifications. But today, it really couldn’t be helped.

Honestly, he thinks you should hire a mod. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have such crass comments filling up such a beautiful movie.

These chats are mostly lewd remarks, that’s only to be expected, but Ikkei feels it’s always taken too far. Especially before you even show up to the stream, before you have the chance to stand up for yourself.

It’s always the same. People commenting on the way you run your stream, demanding that you hurry up, demanding you perform better — do the little trick they like. But almost all are unwilling to pay the cost required.

It’s obvious this audience doesn’t appreciate you. It’s evident in the way they speak, in their overall mannerisms — but you put on your show regardless, never once losing the spark in your eyes.

If they knew you like he did, or even if they knew you at all, they’d understand that these actions, comments, and just overall inappropriate behaviour, is far from the way to your heart.

Ikkei doesn’t even have a chance to defend you before the lobby of your stream is turned to dark mode. The chat that once took over the entire screen is moved off neatly to the bottom, and the rest of the space is replaced with a black screen and a pink kitten loading sign. He’s seen it more times than he can count, but the anticipation is still the same.

Every time your face appears on his screen, eyes downcast and lip between your teeth, Ikkei feels his heart skip a beat. You’re not wearing anything special, at least not from what he can see with the way your desk cameras framed. It’s just a white button-up dress shirt, but to Ikkei, anything you put on looks like it should belong on a runway. His breath stutters in his chest when you realize the stream has started, when you look up from your keyboard and grace him with a beautiful smile.

“Wow…!” Your voice is laced with chipper surprise as your eyes scan the analytics of your stream, obviously not expecting the rapid stream of chats and the sheer volume of viewers. “You guys are already here?”

“Of course,” Ikkei mumbles to himself as he slides open the drawer of his desk. He reaches into the compartment, swollen hand reaching blindly for his bottle of lube, his box of crusted tissues. Never once do his eyes wander; too busy focusing on your delicate features. He knows you can’t hear him, but he feels like he has to make it known, “I wouldn’t miss your show for anything in the world.”

His sentiment seems to be widely shared as you begin to read out comments with a large grin stretched across your lips. “Yes, anything for you, duh, did you think I wouldn’t, do you know what day it is…?”

You audibly gasp, fake shock plastering across your face as you pretend to ponder the importance of today’s date. Your finger and thumb come up to cup your chin as you furrow your face in mock confusion “Hmmmm, can you remind me? What day is it today? It must be special if there’s so many of you.”

Your chats overflow with outraged messages as your whole audience seems to blow up in a panic. And just like that, your laugh begins to fill the room. It’s a genuine laugh, one that makes his heart melt, one he can’t help but join in.

The messages don’t stop coming, not until you wave your hand, wiping a tear from your eyes as you assure everyone that of course you remember, there’s no way you’d forget such a special occasion. After all, it’s not every day you hit 100k subs, and it’s not every day you gift a loyal fan the opportunity of an… explicit meet-up.

“So,” you tease, tongue coming out to wet your lips, “I was gonna announce the winner at the end of the stream… but would you rather I tell you the winner now?”

The chats are a blur, the crowd's decision is unanimously yes. But everything comes with a cost, and nothing is given for free.

“Alright, alright, alright,” you giggle, eyes scanning your notifications as your hand comes up to bashfully cup your cheek. “I’ll announce the winner… but only if you guys donate the set amount of kibble coins that a normal stream would draw in.”

There’s a bit of an outcry in your lobby. As can be expected, your viewers aren’t particularly happy. There's a lot of misdirected anger, people saying how unfair it is for you to ask for money without even flashing tits. But just like always, you handle the situation with grace.

You simply tut your lips and wag your finger. “You guys hurt my feelings, do you not think I’m worth it?” Your lip juts out in a pout as your twirl a strand of hair around your finger. Your teasing voice reprimands the rowdy audience. “You know this is my job, right? I need to make a living, and I know a lot of you will leave once I announce the winner.”

Your voice is sickeningly sweet as you plead for their understanding. “I hope you guys understand,” another bite of your lip, another nervous twirl of your hair, “I just need to make enough to get by — you all know about my partner's ailing grandfather, the one who refuses to get proper help. If you guys don’t help me out, I’ll have to get a real job, and then you won't see me nearly as much, if at all.”

You pause for a moment, taking note of the flux and flow of your viewer statistics. The ones that are left, the ones who haven’t already moved one, those are the ones you know you’ve trapped. Those are the suckers you’ve drawn in with your line.

You move your hands beneath the table to appear more timid, to uphold the image of anxiety and guilt for asking so much from your fans. But really, your hands are roughly twisting and pinching at the tender flesh of your inner thighs. When you feel enough water has gathered across your eyes to be believable, you lift your gaze, bringing out your best dejected voice to play on their heartstrings.

“Unless… that’s what you want? It’s not, is it? Are you guys tired of my streams?”

And just like that, with a few well-chosen words, glassy eyes, and the quiver of a lip, you have these horny men in the palm of your hands. Coin after coin starts to stream rapidly into your account, the notifications flashing neatly in the top left corner as more and more donations come in. You make sure to read out everyone’s name, happy to thank your generous supporters, your most loving fans.

There’s a lot of suckers in your channel; tons of lonely men just looking for your company, your effortless validation. You prey on these men with ruthless abandon, only concerned about raking in coins for the cost of your lifestyle.

And as it just so happens, Ikkei’s one of these men.

It’s only when his handle flashes across the screen that you pause, eyes widening in shock and mouth hanging agape.

“O-oldcrow69. T-thank you for this generous donation of f-fifty thousand coins!”

Names continue to flash across the screen, and fans begin to get mad when you stop reading them out, when you continue to be hung up over this generous donation. Fifty thousand coins, that’s five hundred dollars… shelled out like it was nothing!

You know you shouldn’t be so surprised, oldcrow69 is one of your regulars. He probably spends this amount during each one of your streams, maybe even more. But still, you can’t stop the way your eyes continue to widen, shock evident across your face at the lump sum of cash he’s virtually thrown your way.

The username in question once again flashes onto your monitor, and this time, there’s another ten thousand coins attached. The notification has you quickly pulling your attention back to the stream, eyes wide with appreciation. In a matter of minutes, you’ve already made up your targeted amount. And it’s all thanks to this mysterious user, your generous benefactor — the user you’ve quickly learned to value.

With the abrupt clearing of your throat, you bring your palms up to gently slap your cheeks. A big smile spreads across your face as you gently shake your head in a playful manner, making sure to keep the illusion of a bubbly persona.

“Okay everyone! It looks like we made our goal today with the help of our most generous patron, oldcrow69! Everyone say thank you! I’m gonna announce the winner in just a minute!”

You can practically hear the cheers when you announce the starting of your draw. It’s almost like you can physically feel the anxiety and anticipation beading through your monitor as you share your screen, opening a tab linked to your Chatsirbate account, and uploading all the usernames of your subscribers into a random generator.

While your page is being spammed by overly excited kids, which probably means anyone under 40, Ikkei’s nothing but relaxed. This draw, this competition — he knows it’s only a formality. It’s just a way for you two to officially meet.

Some might think it’s insulting to treat your lover this way, to actually go as far as to fake this whole thing; to take everyone’s entries into a random generator. But Ikkei thinks it’s cute. He finds it amusing that you like to play these games, that you like to pretend that he wasn’t already pre-chosen.

This whole event, it’s just a lie. There’s no way you wouldn’t choose him, not after all the time and money he’s sunk into your streams, into your well-being — into your life. He’s your biggest benefactor, your main source of income. It’s impossible to overlook that, and both of you know it. Both of you know that’s the reason why he’s drawn, it's the reason why his username flashes across the screen in big, pastel pink letters.

Ikkei knows it for a fact, he knows you set this up. You want him, it’s as simple as that. Still, he shakes his head as you act surprised, as you excitedly announce the results out loud to the stream, it’s a little annoying.

It’s not good to lie, that’s not what good girls do, and that’s certainly not the kind of behaviour Ikkei wants from his wife. He makes note of this rebellious attitude, making sure to mark it as one of the first things he’ll change.

Honey-dipped words have Ikkei turning up his volume as you announce you’re ready to begin.

A red dot in the right-hand corner of his browser window has Ikkei choking on his spit. The flashing of crimson has him tapping the screen with thick fingers, willing, almost begging the message to open. It’s only after a moment's embarrassment that he remembers he needs to use his mouse. Clicking the icon reveals a private chat, one initiated by you.

The message is simple and to the point.

Thank you so much for supporting me and participating in this event! Congratulations on winning an exclusive meet and greet, I’ll be in contact with you at a later date.

It seems cold, almost apathetic — but Ikkei knows that’s just what you want him to think. You want Ikkei to believe this is just some auto-generated message, it’s all part of your game.

He leans closer to the screen, when he hears you speak again. He’s almost hunching over his desks as he watches you reach up to adjust your camera.

A flash of cleavage has drool pooling in his mouth, A loud groan leaving his lips as he watches you step back, as you position yourself almost fully in frame. You’re everything he’s dreamed of and more.

He watches with the utmost investment as you pace around in your oversized dress shirt, sleeves rolled up just past your elbow, and lacy pink panties flashing every time you move a certain way…

“It’s a little hot in here,” you comment, a light pant in your voice as you set up the heavy camera you’ll use for the rest of your stream. “Don’t you think so too?”

You look back at your screen, responding to the first comment that appears in your chat. “Why don’t I take my shirt off?” You answer back, a wicked playfulness dancing across your tongue. You turn to the webcam, one hand on your hip while the other cups your chin. “Do you guys think that’s a good idea?”

Ikkei winces as his loud “YES” echoes back in his silent room. His hearing aids ring with feedback, but he’s too afraid to turn them down. He’s so desperate to hear your every word. It gets to the point where he even opts not to breathe, his own pants too loud for him to focus. Ikkei’s only reminded of this basic bodily function when stars begin to dance over his eyes, when he starts to feel light-headed. His blood begins to pump as he watches you tug your pouting lip between your teeth, popping it out only moments later covered in a thick sheen of saliva.

“W-wow, do you really want me that badly?” you mumble under your breath, a pink tongue darting out to gloss over your tender lips. His own tongue darts out to mimic your actions, eagerly watching as your chest begins to rise and fall in a heavier, more obvious rhythm.

He watches as your mouth begins to part, as you drop your gaze to your fingers, digits nibbling toying with the golden buttons of your shirt. One by one, you slowly undo each clasp, eyes peeking up from heavy lids as you bashfully tease your audience.

A groan slips past your lips as you struggle with the tiny circles, “These are so difficult,” you laugh, shaking your head before continuing. “I really wish one of you could help me out…”

You don’t even have to look up to know there’s countless men offering to take you up on your cry for help. Knowing you have all this power, it spurs your ego, it allows for you to continue this questionable way of life.

You make a show of removing the rest of your shirt, slowly sliding the golden metal through each hole of your shirt in an impossibly lewd manner.

As each button slides out of its home, more and more of your supple skin is exposed to the audience. Once you reach the middle of your chest, you start unfastening your shirt from the bottom — each button more painful than the last.

You laugh as your eyes flitter over a message. Another one of your regular clients desperately vying for your attention.

“Oh?” You tease, stopping with only one button left in the center of your shirt “Is that right, owlboybo?” You take a few steps closer, reaching out to adjust the webcam to follow your form as you once again sit down, and your computer erupts.

With the rise of your chest peeking through the folds of cotton, you tilt your head slightly back. Two fingers find their way into your mouth, only to be released with a loud pop. You drag the glistening digits down your chin and along the length of your neck, only stopping when you reach the valley of your breasts, when a done-up button stops your natural path.

Ikkei slams his fist on the table, frustrated that he can't see more, that he only caught a glimpse of pastel pink lace hugging the raised flesh of your chest.

“You’d rip off my clothes? For me? How thoughtful,” you giggle, sliding the fabric off one of your shoulders, exposing your skin to the harsh lights of your home studio. “You’d take my perky tits in tits in your mouth, is that right?”

Ikkei moans as he watches the interaction. You continue to tease with a sly smirk, with your delicate fingers tapping over your lip and your face scrunches up in what he assumes is deep thought. You laugh at the eagerness that’s displayed in your chat. Everyone wants you, and they want you now.

But you just shrug them off, almost as casually as you shrugged off the thin cotton from your shoulder. A pink tongue comes out to rest on the top of your lip as you reassure the audience that this will just take a minute, you’re just switching over to your second, much better camera.

You can almost taste their protest as the screen turns black again before switching to a new angle, a shot of your pastel blue bed bedsheets and a white wall filling the frame.

Once you make sure everything’s alright on the front end, you make your way over, crossing in front of the camera before sitting down with slightly parted legs in the middle of your bed. There’s a large monitor set up to the right of your tripod, it’s how you read the comments during your stream, and it’s how you judge the angle of your camera.

You tug the cotton of your oversized shirt between your legs with the wiggle of your ass and carefully placed hands. Ikkei groans as you cover your panties, face heating up as you bashfully ask the audience how you look. “Do you think this angle is alright? Does it make me look pretty?”

It’s hard to mask your happiness as you receive a flood of compliments and reassurance. It feels good to have their favour, it feels good to be loved. It’s something everyone can agree on — you just take it that one step further.

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, and with the encouragement of your fans, you unbutton the last gold circle. You let the white fabric fall gently down your body in an almost erotic fashion, moans slipping from your chest as the rough textile bushes against sensitive skin.

Ikkei’s breath hitches in his throat as he takes in your flawless figure. Wordlessly, he reaches his hand down to his crotch, trying desperately to stir his flaccid cock to life. He bites back his frustration as he continues to palm himself back and forth through his joggers, growing more and more riled up as nothing continues to happen.

It’s obvious you’ve done this a million times before. Hands outstretched across your body, hiding your most intimate parts from the stream. It’s almost like a dance as you run your fingers down your freshly exposed skin, as they trail across your neck, chest, arms, and even thighs. Ikkei would even go as far as to say it’s art when you push your sleeves off your arms and onto the floor.

It must be cold in your room. It’s a fact he’d be blind to miss. Ikkei wants to say the first thing he notices is the pimpling of your skin. That would be the most gentlemanly thing to point out. But in reality, it’s the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your bralette, it’s the way your body carries a slight shake to its very foundation.

What he doesn’t know is that you do this on purpose; you like the way it displays a vulnerability to your audience, the way it plays to your nature. There’s a lot of things you do behind the scenes, it’s not hard to imagine. But no one really even tries. And why should they? This is your job, it’s your responsibility.

You can’t be successful if you can’t play to their instincts, if you don’t cater to their needs…

So that’s exactly what you do.

A soft moan fills the room as you reach a hand into the cup of your bra, as you gently grope the soft flesh of your chest. You’re so sensitive, body trembling as a finger accidentally brushes over a pebbled nipple. You hiss out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, scrunching your eyes shut as you roughly tug at the coloured nub, twisting it painfully beneath the lace.

“More.” Another moan leaves your lips as you run your free hand up and down the gentle curves of your body. “Please, feels so good.”

With a hand shoved down his pants, and a fist wrapped around his limp cock, Ikkei bites out an angry, “fuck!”

It’s both physically and mentally painful to watch you touch yourself like this. The way you tug at your tits, worshiping each mound of flesh until your panties are left a drooling mess — it has tears of frustration building in the back of his eyes.

There’s a thin sheen of sweat building across the old man’s body, his clothes beginning to feel sticky, almost damp against his skin. But he’s too tired to do anything about it. His body’s too sore to care about such a minor inconvenience.

Ikkei wishes he had you here to help, he wishes you could take off his clothes with your beautiful hands, or your pouting mouth. But he knows it’s not the right time, and he just has to wait. Thankfully, Ikkei’s nothing if not patient.

Instead of dwelling, he does the best that he can, shoving his pants down just far enough for his fat, saggy balls, and his thick, flaccid cock to rest on top of the hem of his grey sweats.

You’re so fucking hot.

He knows it, and so does everyone else watching your stream. But no matter how hard, or how gentle he tugs — and regardless of how much attention he pays to his wrinkly old balls — his cock refuses to harden.

Ikkei bangs his fist on the table, cursing angrily under his breath at the tiny blue pill he ingested just moments before. It isn’t strong enough; it’s not doing its job. Next time, he needs to do better. He needs to take more. He can’t embarrass himself, not like this, not in front of you.

Ikkei just doesn’t understand why it’s not working. The most common reason is user error, that’s more than a possibility, but Ikkei refuses to even entertain the thought. He gave it thirty minutes to work, he didn’t mix it with anything else - just a few shots of soju. In his mind, that’s more than enough preparation, that’s more than enough time. It’s worked before, so why isn’t the blood flowing down to his cock? Why isn’t he fisting a massive erection, precum glossing over his swollen knuckles?

Here you are, taunting these pathetic men, talking about how desperate you are, how slick your panties are against your cute little cunt — but Ikkei can't do anything about it.

He only falls deeper into a pit of frustration as you slip down your straps, as you unfasten the clasp in the back of your bra. You hold the lace up with your hands, rubbing your thighs together as you voice out your nervousness.

Your fans demand you drop the fabric, and so does Ikkei, fingers flying rapidly across the keyboard, his message filled with numerous spelling errors. But you remain unconvinced.

“I don’t know guys…” You mumble under your breath, “I’ve been working out more, and I think my tits might have gotten smaller… Do you think you’ll still love them? Will you promise not to judge me?”

Ikkei watches as your eyes flash over the screen, as you take in the comments with a gentle smile. A weak, okay, is all that can be heard before you’re moving your hands, before the lace drops onto your lap. Ikkei’s so caught up in your perky tits, on your beautiful chest on full display for his greedy eyes, that he doesn’t even notice you kicking the item to the floor. He doesn’t even notice the sly smirk you flash from the corner of your mouth.

As you unintentionally press your chest together, arms crossing over your front in a show of modesty, a thick glob of spit drips down from your mouth. Ikkei watches as it falls onto your tit, as it drips down into your cleavage…

It’s almost too much for the frail old man to handle. Ikkei nearly cries, face heating up with arousal and jealousy as you chase the liquid down with a single finger. Your face is hot with embarrassment as you stutter over an apology before scooping up the sticky liquid and popping it into your mouth with a soft whine.

Your voice is what spurs him further. “Please,” you pout, eyes dropping to your lap, lip once again between your teeth, “I’m really embarrassed.”

Everyone tells you not to be, assuring you that you’re perfect, in fact, you look better than ever.

But no matter what the comments say, and regardless of how sexy they say you are — how they obsess over your body, telling you how badly they want to take you over literally any surface, fucking you any way you want — you remain doubtful, body shifting back and forth with uncertainty.

“Well,” you start, “I would feel much more comfortable if we were all topless.” Your mumbles would be easy to miss, if not for Ikkei hanging off your every word. Your eyes lift to meet the camera head-on as you rub saliva-coated lips together in succession. “Can you, can you do that for me? Please?”

You don't even have to ask. Ikkei’s previously worn-down body suddenly finds new life within your request. His arthritic fingers are crying out in disagreement as they fly under the hem of his shirt, as he eagerly lifts the article off his protesting body. But to see a smile on your face, to see you comfortable, to see you happy — this is nothing, his pain is nothing.

With his white t-shirt now discarded on the floor, Ikkei brings his attention back to his monitor. He focuses on your gasping form, to the way you cry out as your fingers find their way once again to your chest, twisting gently at your already abused nipples. Your cries have him melting into his seat.

“I- I think I could cum.”

Your revelation is enough to send your followers spiralling, and Ikkei’s no exception. He watches intently as you continue to rain down pressure on your sensitive nubs, as you cry out for, “more, please!”

Consciously or not, Ikkei matches the way your hips thrust against the blue sheets of your bed, dreaming it's his cock that you’re grinding on.

Lewd moans, heavy pants, and the rustling of fabric are the only sounds taking up Ikkei’s room. His eyes roll back in ecstasy as he listens to your pleasure, as he imagines that he’s the one making you cry like this.

When Ikkei lifts his lids, gaze flickering back to the screen, he’s met with teary eyes and a quivering lip. You’re tugging roughly at your nipples, wincing and groaning with a mixture of pain and pleasure. But it’s more frustration than anything else. You just can’t get there on your own, and it tugs at the old man's heart.

A high-pitched cry of distress is all that leaves your body before you’re leaning back on your elbows, before you’re throwing up your legs, each one propped up on the bed sheets beside you.

Your voice is desperate and broken, “I-I can’t do it.” A stream of tears, internationally or not, slip down your cheek as you beg for his help, as you admit your weakness. “I- I can’t cum without you! Please!”

A part of Ikkei’s heart shatters when he sees you like this. He reaches out his hand to the dusted screen, wiping away your tears in a slow, methodical motion. You’re a big girl, you can take this.

But at the same time, it has him fuming. Ikkei clenches his jaw and furiously tugs at his cock in anger. He thinks your behaviour is more than a little questionable. The only one you should cry for is him. But here you are, spread out like a fucking whore, begging for these boys to help you cream in your panties.

Your wriggle around on the bed, desperately panting as a hand finds its way to your crotch. You cry out as your finger brushes against your clothed clit, legs shaking with pleasure.

“Please,” you cry, “please, can I touch myself?”

Ikkei just nods, a silent yes, slipping out from his rattling chest.

And you do. Shaking fingers pull aside the wet panties clinging to your soaking sex. The pink fabric giving way with gooey trails of slick dragging all the way from your greedy hole, to the drenched lace. Even beneath your ass is a dark patch of liquid. You gasp upon seeing it, pushing yourself up onto your hand, and reaching the other down to cover the spot in embarrassment.

Ikkei’s not sure how long you planned to keep the stain hidden, or how long you planned to block his view of your pretty little pussy. But your rebellion doesn’t last long. Not when you scoot your body forward, not when you grind your needy little clit against the length of your hand.

The sensation is clearly building to be too much. A thin sheen of sweat is building across your skin as you pick up your movements, as you grind even harder against your wrist.

Rolling his balls in his hand, Ikkei groans as he watches you cry out for help, as the side of your hand becomes wet with your arousal. “Don’t be shy,” he coos at the computer, “show me how badly you want me, how badly you need me.”

And just like that, as if obeying his wishes, you pull yourself away. With a heaving chest and a throbbing clit, your hand comes back to rest on the side of your thigh, just a hair away from the drooling mess you made of your cunt.

Your desperate whines continue to fill the room and you lean back once more on your elbow, lower arm resting against the bedsheets. This time, when you cry out your demands, it feels like you’re talking directly to Ikkei.

“I- I can’t wait to meet you.” Fingers slowly drag over your folds as you start to gather the arousal that’s leaked onto your thighs, spreading it over the lips of your cunt. “My pussy’s so sensitive,” you wince, recoiling as your finger accident brushes against your swollen clit. “B-but, I know you’ll take care of me, I know you’ll treat me right...”

“Please,” you cry out, glassy eyes meeting his through the screen of the monitor. “I want you to touch me, I need you to touch me. Can’t you see how wet I am? How badly my pussy is throbbing? Why aren’t you here??”

You’re almost in hysterics as you spread the lips of your cunt, as you use your middle finger to gather up your wetness and smear it across your clit. Ikkei watches as you twitch beneath your fingers, as your hole desperately clenches around nothing.

“I want you so badly,” you cry, “please, I need you to help me!”

With your desperate admission, Ikkei feels himself finally starting to harden beneath his fist, his eyes never leaving the sticky substance leaking from your folds.

Just off-screen, hidden from the eyes of your viewers, is a special little present; a tiny little box. Inside this box are all your favourite toys, all the ones Ikkei loves to watch you use.

You can’t wait any longer, pulling yourself up into a sitting position, eyes glazed over with lust and desperation.

Where are you going, baby?

Come back!

Show us your pussy!

Cream all over those fingers~

Don’t make me come spank you…

Your mouth parts with lust, heavy pants leaving your chest and you read over your comments. You want to listen; you love being told what to do — but you need more than your fingers. You need a big, fat, rigid cock to stretch your messy little hole.

You’re practically drooling as you pull the container into frame, as you watch the comments demand you share the contents.

You can’t even use your words, your mind too jumbled in a haze of lust. Instead, you dump them out in between your open legs, right in front of your throbbing sex.

Your hands skim over each toy, holding them up to gauge the interest of your viewers. Every comment, every remark, it only serves to work you up further. As you sit up on the bed, legs still spread, and knees tucked off to the side of you, you can feel the patch of wetness growing larger and larger beneath you. It’s almost uncomfortably wet as you shift your weight against the sheets, as you grind yourself against what little friction the slick sheets provide.

With each toy you show off, you enter a certain, unclear state of mind. Your thoughts are jumbled into a ball of chaos. It’s everything and nothing all at once. Hands running along all the ridges of your toys, all the different shapes, and all the different sizes, you imagine how each would feel inside you, how one will differ from the next. But it’s more than that. You clench around nothing, shifting your hip even faster as you imagine the faces of the pathetic men behind the screen. As you imagine them desperately jerking their weeping cocks to you fucking yourself on a stand-in dick.

You’re so desperate to shove one inside you, so desperate to cum around your favourite toy. You almost pick for them — but you know you need permission first.

Ikkei sits with his mouth agape, hot puffs of air rapidly leaving his chest as he watches you play with your toys, as you hold them up shyly for him to see. You don’t say much, simply stroking, and feeling the shapes of each kind of item. If he’s lucky, you’ll bring a few to your mouth.

He is almost fully hard as you stick out your tongue, running the wet flesh against a tiny pink vibrator. Ikkei chokes when you wrap your lips around a beige dildo. It feeds his ego when you say it’s your favourite, when you say you can’t live without it.

The toy is massive. Hardly fitting past the muscles of your mouth — but it looks exactly like his cock. Ikkei beams with pride every time he sees you use it, when you moan around its head, when you thrust it slowly into your mouth.

Somewhere along the way, as you strip your panties down your legs, and as you reach more of your favourite toys, Ikkei’s found himself in a trance. Without even thinking, he’s hitting the donate button again and again. It’s his way of showing you which toy he likes, the more coins he donates, the more he approves.

Your eyes widen as you see his username flash across the screen in repetitive succession. You thought tonight might be a success, and you knew the winner of your competition would surely be overjoyed, but you hadn’t expected them to stick around — much less give you so much of their money. How much is it now? It’s gotta be close to eight hundred dollars…

Shaking out of your trance, you decide to do something special for your most loyal fan. With a soft bat of your eyes, and a genuine smile gracing your lip, you look towards the camera, directly into your lover’s eyes. Embarrassment heats the tips of your ears as you nervously stroke some of the toys laid out in front of you, as you ask for your generous fan’s help.

“Do you, do you think you could help me pick my toy, oldcrow69?”

You can’t nail down why, but your interaction has your heart racing. It’s not uncommon for you to call out to a fan, to ask their advice and to make your stream more inclusive — but there’s something about this user, maybe it’s because they’re the one you’re set to meet, or maybe it’s because they’ve donated so much — but even just mentioning their name has you grinding down on the bed sheets.

Ikkei doesn’t answer at first, thinking it’s just a cruel trick of his ears. You’ve never called on him before so he doesn’t expect you to now. But it's not a trick, it’s real, and you sit there patiently waiting for your fan to answer you. It’s only when you repeat his name again, when the chats go off at the slow old man for not responding to your question, threatening to take his place and choose for him, that he snaps into action.

Of course Ikkei gets to choose. It’s almost a no-brainer with the way his hands have been hovering over his mouse, the way he’s been donating every ten minutes or so.

There’s really no competition. It’s obvious to this old man that you can see no one else but him. Ikkei always gets what he wants, and what he wants, is you — even at the cost of his retirement savings.

With a thick hand fondling his balls, rolling the hard lumps and pulling at the loose skin of his most private area, Ikkei convinces himself it doesn’t matter anyway. His money is your money, and your money is his money. It does no damage for him to share it with you, not when he’ll be controlling all your assets by the end of the month.

Stiff fingers fly to his keyboard, elbows and shoulders cracking at the sudden movement. His cock bounces off his sagging stomach as he hurriedly tries to decide which toy to pick, finally settling on the large, colourless, glass dildo laying out in front of you.

Ikkei stiffens at your praise when you tell him how happy he chose this specific toy for you to play with. He loves the way you carefully pick it up, gently brushing against your skin, wincing at the coldness of the material. Ikkei watches as you rub it between your hands, crying out when you press it against your sensitive nipples.

“It’s like an ice cube,” you giggle sheepishly, running the swollen tip of your toy down the lengths of your body.

Ikkei’s parched, the inside of his mouth is like a desert. He watches intensely as you drag the toy down to your navel before pulling it away with a squeal. No matter how many times he darts out his tongue, his cracked lips find no relief. Instead, he gnaws restlessly at the flaking skin, tugging it away and leaving open tears in his skin.

Momentary disappointment flashes over the old man's eyes as you put down the toy. Doubt crawls up the base of his spine, maybe you don’t like it so much after all.

As if reading his mind, you’re quick to reassure the audience everything’s fine, you’re just setting up, that’s all. You giggle at the confused comments asking you what else there is to do, why you need to do anything different. You answer back with a playful tone to your voice, teasing your audience as you express your need for comfort, as you shove your other toys back into the box and off to the side.

Besides, you convince them, it’ll be much better like this: back pressed against the newfound pillows, pillows pressed against the wall of your bedroom, legs spread lewdly in front of the camera — it’s the perfect view.

Ikkei’s so mesmerized by your glistening folds, by the way your pussy seems to throb under his watchful gaze, that he doesn’t notice you picking up the glass toy, not until it’s pressed against your clit, not until you’re crying out, back arched off the cushions and body trembling from the sudden temperature change.

He watches as you rub the piece of glass up and down your length, as it takes on a shiny, more reflective hue as you cover the toy with more and more of your arousal. Ikkei loves the way you look, writhing on top of your sheets, body banging softly against the wall as you throw your head back in pleasure. His choice of toy is perfect, the clear glass never truly blocking your pussy from his view.

“Shit,” he bites out, rubbing the head of his cock with a calloused hand as he watches you rub the dildo at your entrance.

It’s almost painful to watch the stretch of your cunt. You’re practically gushing with wetness, your slick covering your folds and dripping down to the sheets below you, but the toy is so thick, and you can barely push the head past your tight ring of muscles.

“It’s— it’s so big,” you moan, scrunching your face as you try to shove the toy deeper, pain clearly etched across your features. Heavy pants, and a thin sheen of sweat fill the screen and speakers. “It’s too much,” you admit, defeat lacing your voice as you pull the glass slowly from your pussy.

Once it’s out, and you take a few deep breaths, you try again. This time, the toy makes it farther than last time. Ikkei can start to see the inside of your wet, creamy cunt as you push the clear toy even deeper. But in the end, you still have to pull it out. “It hurts,” you whine, complaining that you’re “just not wet enough,” you need someone to help you, you need someone to spit on your pretty little pussy.

And just like that, without even thinking it through, Ikkei’s gathering a glob of saliva, and spitting it out onto his dusty monitor with a backbreaking force. Part of him regrets the action, the other, much larger part, relishes in the way the thick liquid drips down the image of your cunt, the way it marks you as his own.

“Please,” you beg, “I really just want you to fuck me.” Your eyes are blown wide with desperation, pupils dilated as if you’re on some kind of intoxicant — and maybe you are. Maybe you’re addicted to the way thousands of eyes are watching you, the way thousands of people are getting off to your pathetic and desperate form.

Soft words leave your lips as you lift the toy from your cunt, as a hand reaches off to the side and pumps out a few squirts of lube. “I want you to touch yourself.”

A wet tongue comes out to slide over your lips, leaving them shiny with spit. “I want you to rub your cock and imagine it’s me. Imagine it’s my hands teasing your pretty little head, rubbing my fingers down your shaft, cupping my hands under your thick, heavy, breeder balls.”

With slow and sensual movements, you lead forward, placing the base of the toy on the bed with one hand holding it down. Your palm rests on its balls, and the other circles around the shiny tip of its cock. “Is this what you want me to do to you? Is this how you want me to touch you on our date?”

Ikkei gulps down the spit he doesn’t have, hot breath fanning uncomfortably across his face. A shaky hand reaches for his lube as he squirts out a generous amount, as he rubs the greasy material all along the length of his erection. He tries his best to copy the slow and sensual motions of your hands on his screen.

“Do you like that?” You tease, hand rubbing faster against the length of your toy. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

Ikkei nods his head, throwing it back violently when one hand clutches tightly to his balls, when the other swirls around the sensitive tip of his erection.

He can’t decide whether he loves it or hates it, the way your breathless voice walks him through a series of different motions. You tell him to run a finger over his head, to push his finger gently inside the oozing slit of his cock. He almost doesn’t listen, too put off by your suggestion. But pleading eyes and a pouting lip have him sticking the digit just gently inside. He almost cums at the sensation, never having put anything down his length before.

And when you feel he’s had enough, you ask him to palm the tip of his cock. The rough skin of his hands feels almost painful against the soft flesh of his head. It doesn’t take long for the sensation to become too much, for Ikkei to be curled in on himself, sweat dripping down his chest as he tries his best to keep touching himself the way you want him to.

Literal tears begin to spring to his eyes when you tell him he can stop, when you tell him he’s done well. He throws his head back against the headrests of his chair, body surging with overstimulation and relief.

He’s not sure if he’s grateful or not, but you barely give him a moment's rest. Already your syrupy voice is calling him back, demanding he run his hand up and down the length of his twitching erection, demanding the other run over his body; pinching his nipples, massaging his balls, even toying with the puckered hole just beneath his perineum.

Your sweet voice talks the grizzled old man through various steps of pleasure, things he hasn’t tried before, things he probably never would've before, and things he never will again — not on his own, not without you to guide him through it.

Ikkei’s pleasure is only intensified when his attention is drawn back to you, when he catches your shaky hand bringing the lubricated toy back down your body.

You gasp in shock as the glass meets your puffy lips. Your back arches off the pillows as you once again drag the toy up and down your folds. Through lidded eyes, you gaze at your lover, and you beg him to fuck you.

“Please…” your voice comes out barely more than a whisper, dripping with lust and exhaustion. “I want you, I want you to fuck me so badly.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth almost alarmingly hard, the skin going white as you try to distract yourself with pain. “Can you— can you touch yourself for me, please—”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice, hands already groping his balls, tugging his cock in rough, punishing thrusts.

Unintentionally, you feel your face begin to scrunch up, mouth hanging open as you bring the glass dildo to the entrance of your hole, as a few cries leave your lips, “‘s too much— ‘can’t— owowowow—”

Ikkei watches through lidded eyes as you sensually insert the toy into your cunt, as you slowly, painfully, start to thrust it deep into your hole. Lewd comments continue to flash across the screen as you beg to be fucked, as you beg to be bred.

You don’t understand how badly he wants you; you don’t understand how long he’s dreamed about fucking your pathetic little cunt. As Ikkei fists his length, pulling roughly at his uncut cock, all he can imagine is that he’s the one inside you. That he’s the one making you moan, making those tears of pleasure stream down your burning cheeks.

Your cries only make his blood pump harder; they only make him angrier.

You can barely talk, tongue tripping over every word as you blubber out your feeble demands, as you overwhelm yourself with pleasure. “I— I want, I want you to run your hand down your length— I want you to fuck yourself on your fist— I want you to image it’s me.”

Thrusting the dildo inside your hole faster and faster, you can’t help the words that spill from your lips. You mean every single one as you press the toy against the spongy spot inside you. “I— I want you to breed me. Please, pleasepleaseplease! fill me with your seed.”

You can’t stop honey-dipped words from slipping off your tongue as you beg for something you know you can’t have. “Please,” you whine, pumping the dildo even deeper into your throbbing cunt. “I don’t want his toy, I want you! I want you to fuck me!”

“Yeah?” Ikkei growls angrily, beating his cock with relentless thrusts. “You want me to fuck you? You want me to push my big, fat cock in your tiny little hole?”

“Please,” you beg, eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Fuck!” He all but screams, body violently shaking with pent up aggression. “You really want it that bad, huh? A stupid little whore like you, wanting me to fill you up? You want me to push past your tight little entrance? You like it when I force my way inside? When I brush against the perfect spot inside you?”

Ikkei can’t even make out your response, not through your heady moans and high-pitched whines. So instead, he continues to tease you, his voice coming out raspy and broken. “I— I know you want it— stupid little bitch! You want me— you want me to split you in half, you want me to fill you with my cum, isn’t that right?”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease!” You continue to whine, not even understanding what you're begging for. Your body lay writhing in an overwhelming rush of euphoria as you continue to thrust the toy rapidly in and out of your greedy sex.

With your mind in a haze, muddled by carnal desires and instinctual needs, you ask to go faster, you ask to touch your clit. You can’t take it anymore, already feeling so close to the edge. Fingers fly to your sensitive nub and your body starts to crumble beneath your touch.

Your audience goes absolutely feral, telling you how they’d take care of you, how they’d make you cum, how they’d make you cream around their cocks again and again until you can’t even walk. They promise you the moon, claiming you’ll have anything you want. A cozy home to live in, plates full of food, endless streams of presents — and a stomach full of cum.

That’s all you really want. Your holes filled with pungent seed, semen dripping down your thighs, crusting in a mark of possession. You want the taste of cock in your mouth, and you want to ache as you walk. But more than anything, you want cum splashing against the entrance of your womb. You want a baby nestled deep inside your womb.

Your followers promise you everything the sun can offer, but you don’t believe a single word. You don’t listen to them.

The only one you listen to that night is Ikkei, and his chest wells with an unjustified sense of pride. Everything he’s thinking is out of the realm of reality, there's no way the two of you could communicate telepathically like he so badly wants to believe — but nothing will change his mind otherwise. This is just one of those things you can’t explain, it’s just like fate or destiny.

To the weak, feeble old man, you’re the personification of what he considers to be well behaved, a good girl through and through. You already recognize who you belong to, and both your body and your mind respond accordingly.

Ikkei can tell that you’re close with the way your body trembles, with the way heat begins to spread across your skin. There’s a shine in your eyes as you beg for release, as you beg to cum.

“Fuck… princess…” His words are drawn out and filled with pain, hissing agonizing as he rubs his hand against his sensitive tip. His voice comes out gruff, interrupted by heavy pants and deep groans and he cries out for more. “F-fuck— just like that baby, touch yourself for me— just like that— shit!”

Your voice is just hoarse as you answer back. “Please,” you whine, “please let me cum. Please let me cum on your cock!”

Honeyed poison leaks from your lips as you beg for him to breed you, as you beg for him to fill you with his thick ropes of pungent cum.

“Yes,” you whine, the clear dildo thrusting in and out of your cunt almost painfully, tears dripping down your cheeks in pleasure.“Yesyesyesyes!”

The grip around his cock is agonizingly tight. Squirting a glob of lube onto his other fist, he reaches down to roll his massive balls, breath hitching as pleasure shoots up his spine.

“M-more,” he begs, “please! Please, baby, I need more— need to see you cum— need to see you cream on my cock!”

He glares at you with hooded eyes, face scrunched up in unimaginable pleasure. He doesn’t know how long he can last, but thankfully, neither do you.

Ikkei feels his balls begin to tighten as your fingers begin to pick up the pace, as the careful pattern you rub over your clit turns into more frantic, and more chaotic motions.

“Feels soooo good!”, you cry, loud, high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you arch your back against the pillows. Your body begins to tremble uncontrollably as you reach your high, vision becoming spotty as you take your lip between your teeth. “I’m gonna cum, I'm gonna cum! Please—,” you scream, “I’m gonna cum all over your fat cock!”

Ikkei grunts wildly, like an animal in heat, loud squelches filling the room as he thrusts his fist up and down his rigid length.

“Yes,” he hisses, “that’s it, baby.”

As Ikkei hunches over, beads of sweat begin to drip onto his thighs. He can’t hold himself back much longer. “Just a little more,” he begs, “princess, please, just a little more— ”

Ikkei tugs at his throbbing cock in a feverish frenzy, his fist flying faster than what seems possible. All your sounds are drowned out by ones of his own, his hearing aids only being able to catch his loud pants and his needy whines.

“I— I’m cumming— I’m cumming, baby please! F-fuck—” his chair squeaks loudly beneath him, threatening to tip over as Ikkei wildly thrust his hips, as he slams his ass up and down on the sticky leather of his seat. Ikkei scrunches his face tightly, lube splashing uncontrollably off his dick and splattering against every nearby surface. His mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out in pleasure. His chest is heaving, his lungs wheezing and panting for air as he reaches his peak. One final squeeze to his wrinkly sack has him teetering over the edge.

“I’m gonna cum, gonna cum— gonna cum all over your pussy— shit!” He sobs, body jerking and cock throbbing uncontrollably. “Cum with me, please!”

A loud cry echoes across his empty room as his body begins to violently spasm. He hunches over himself, balls tightening and cock growing impossibly hard as he finally empties his massive, sagging balls onto his rigid fist. His seed sprays all over his bare chest and into his open, panting mouth.

It should just be a few spurts, but Ikkei can’t stop. Bursts of concentrated cum continue spray in thick, excessive ropes against every surface imaginable.

It’s absolutely euphoric for the old man, finally having the chance to clear his pipes, to empty his severely backed up reserves. He’s never cum so hard in his life, and that seems to be all you need to let go.

Seconds after he reaches his high, you find yourself crashing over the edge. Wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure wash over your body as you thrash against the toy, hitting that perfect spot inside of you over and over. Tears stream down your face as it quickly becomes too much, as you work yourself to overstimulation. When you finally come to a stop, fast and ragged strokes coming to a slow and steady halt, your greedy cunt clenches around the fake cock, sucking it deeper and deeper into your dripping hole. You try to pry it out, but stinging shocks of pain-laced pleasure prevent you from moving it more than a few centimetres. You cry out as your clit throbs wildly against your fingers and you slowly stroke yourself down from your overbearing high.

Even though Ikkei’s cum, and he has nothing left to give — his cock is still painfully erect, and he’s still incredibly horny.

Loud wails continue to leave his lips as Ikkei continues fisting his cock, hands gripping tightly to his excruciatingly hard length.

Even as pain continues to shoot through his body, and as his cock screams for him to stop, he can’t bring himself to do it. His arm won't stop pumping, his fist is locked around his cock. The pain is just too good, it’s too addicting.

Your moans only encourage him further, the tugs on his cock just continue to get more and more violent.

How can he stop when you’re writhing on the bed, absolutely spent. How can he stop when your insides are creaming around his stand-in cock — something he knows he can easily replace.

It feels like destiny, stumbling across the love of his life on such a questionable site, saving her from such an unfortunate future. As he slowly begins to loosen his grip on his cock, Ikkei basks in his fortune.

Ninety percent of the time, no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t cum. Ikkei used to barely even get hard. But now, with you in his life, with the way you deliberately tease him, with the way you almost directly address him — it’s like he’s twenty again. Even as he’s panting, chest rising and falling in heavy, dramatic motions — he’s never felt more alive.

Ikkei’s all but blacking out as he removes his hand from his cock, vision filled with fuzzy dots as he reaches for the box of tissues, carelessly grabbing a handful of rags. Even his hands feel sensitive as he rubs the material against them, as he carelessly cleans the thick globs of his seed from his cock and painfully wipes his raging hard erection. Through bleary eyes, he notices again that it’s not just on his fist, it’s everywhere.

Ikkei’s eyes begin to droop as he takes in your post-orgasmic form, as he watches you cry as you pull out the thick faux cock.

His cum is everywhere; his thighs, his stomach, his desk, his keyboard, his floor, and even the screen. Ikkei never meant for things to get so messy, already cringing as he thinks of the cleanup he’s going to have to do tomorrow. But as he stares at the screen, as he notices the placement of his cum all over your body, he can’t help but think it looks beautiful, it looks right.

Ikkei watches in awe as the thick white globs drip down your body, his mind whirring with all the possible scenarios, all the things the two of you could do together. It’s easy for his mind to get lost in the fantasy, to close his eyes and pretend that all your sweet words, your beautiful smile — it’s only for him.

If not for your chipper voice at the end of the stream, repetitively reminding your audience to take care of themselves and wash up properly, Ikkei probably would’ve fallen asleep on the chair. His eyelids are impossibly heavy, and his muscles are beyond strained.

Black once again begins to dance behind his eyes as Ikkei stumbles upward. He moans in pain as his erect, over-sensitive, and completely swollen cock slaps painfully against the loose skin of his stomach. In the back of his mind, he can feel the way it leaks down his abdomen, the way it saturates through his happy trail and into his pubes. He can already anticipate the itch and the cakey crust that will cover him tomorrow, but Ikkei doesn’t have the energy to clean up. He barely even has the energy to stumble into bed.

Collapsing against the cold sheets, rolling his limp body beneath a thick comforter, Ikkei falls and struggles to get comfortable. His cock throbs painfully at the slightest brush of fabric, let alone when he places his weight against his erection. Without even having to touch his swollen and leaking length, Ikkei can tell that he’s still raging hard and filled with an excess of blood. But he’s not too concerned, it’s not too uncommon with the amount of viagra he took — that and his age. It’s just painful. It’s just an uncomfortable inconvenience.

But he should really be more careful, and he really shouldn’t go to sleep with his dick still stiff, with it leaking a steady stream of fluid every time he puts pressure on it. Maybe if he wasn’t so cheap, and maybe if he wasn’t so old, he would notice the strange tingling of his erection. Maybe he would see the soft tinge of pink leaking from the head of his cock. Maybe under the brightness of light, he’d see the dark hue of reds, purples, and even blacks that begin to cover the old man's erection.

There’s something clearly wrong, and all the signs pointing directly to the little blue pill he popped in his mouth. Was it past its expiry date, was it even the correct dosage? These are all things that should be reacting through the old man’s mind, these are all things he should know. But Ikkei’s too excited, he’s too full of adrenaline to notice or even care.

The only thing he does care about, and the only thing that manages to settle his troubled, broken old body, is the image of you.

A big picture of your smiling face panning across his monitor.

Ikkei knows he can’t afford it; his electricity bills are already too high as it is — but for once he feels grateful. Falling asleep next to the love of his life is all he could ever ask for.

With the sound of your voice ringing in his ears, and the image of you calling out for him fresh in his mind, Ikkei goes to sleep overjoyed, wanting nothing more than to relive this moment forever.

Even as he sleeps, he can’t help but think of how considerate, how thoughtful, and how perfect you are. Looking out for complete strangers, looking out for him — but who looks out for you?

It’s him, it’s Ikkei. He’s always supported you, and he always will.

It’s why the two of you will be perfect together. It’s a conviction he feels in the marrow of his bones. He knows it, and he knows that you know it as well. After all, he thinks, a smile gracing his exhausted features, that’s why you chose him as the winner. It’s why you chose to meet him instead of anyone else.

He knows it, and he plans to make it so that you know it too — so that your whole following knows it. As soon as you message him, as soon as you two meet, then you’ll see.

You need him by your side, and you need to understand; this is where you’re meant to be. It’s where you’ve always belonged.

Being with you is everything he’s always wanted, it’s everything he’s always dreamed of — and as the saying goes, he’s so happy he could die…

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader #Ikkei x reader #yandere hq #Ukai x reader #Ikkei Ukai #haikyuu imagines #lee writes

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

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Do you think you could write a piece about Harry and y/n having sex but she’s like really short and Harry is like throwing her around and just manhandling her and fucking destroying her guts but also make kinda fluffy pls😔👉👈

Welcome Home

Anonymous Said: Hi I’ve discovered this blog recently and can I please just take a moment to say Wow... you’re writing is amazing and your ideas and concepts are brilliant. I’m not sure if your taking requests or concepts but here’s an idea. SNL pilot Harry like with the grey hair and all coming home to his wife who misses him dearly after awhile followed by you know what. And if you could include size kink (I really liked that concept)

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s so late guys! Since I’ve been writing for a year now, I figured that I’d give an ‘Au’ a try. When I got this request, I was completely floored. Like holy shit, sexy ass older pilot!Harry, and small!Y/n. All of this is perfection and I love this so much! Enjoy🙃

4.7k words

Harry loved his job. He considered himself to be pretty lucky to have the ability to travel the world and see places he’d only dreamt of growing up. Even though he wasn’t in those places for an extended amount of time, simply being there was more than enough for Harry and it made him want to go back and explore. If he was lucky, he’d have multiple flights to the same place or longer layover in these But what Harry loved most about his job was the fact that he got to do it all with the love of his life.

When you two first met, Harry’d been a pilot for some years and you were just hired for your job as a flight attendant. You knew that it wasn’t the most glamorous profession int the world, but you wanted to dip your toes into the pool of world travel, and this was the route you were taking to start. Before your first flight you’d asked around about the pilots for your flight and you were met with the same response each time. Everyone said that Harry was one of the nicest people in the world and was pretty good looking too, but his copilot was the person you were advised to try your best to avoid. Luckily, you only had to interact with Harry. Both you and Harry hated to say it and be all cliché, but from the moment you two laid eyes on and interacted with each other you both were hooked. Even though the both of you could’ve really used the entirety of your breaks to get some sleep, you and Harry couldn’t stop talking to each other. From that point on, the two of you became inseparable. During layovers that were more than just a couple hours and Harry had some spare time outside of his duties as pilot, the two of you would spend time together. You two were so caught up in each other and being together that you’d swap flights and breaks with the other flight attendants so that you and Harry could be together. And Harry did the same. He’d always put in a word with the people who made the schedules to ensure that he was flying the flights you were on or he’d try to get you on his flights.

After constantly being on flights together and even running into each other during your times off, you and Harry were pretty convinced that you two should give a relationship a try. Even though there was a significant risk involved with starting a relationship with someone who was pretty much your boss and/or employee, you and Harry were willing to take that risk. And you two never looked back. In fact, disclosing you guys’ relationship made things way easier for you and Harry; you two were almost always on the same flights together. Now, you two are happily married and traveling the world together about 99% of the time. You both absolutely hated when the 1% times came around. You two became so used to being on the same flights that when you weren’t, you and Harry were a bit sad and even a little homesick believe it or not. This time unfortunately was Harry’s turn to fly without you. There wasn’t a moment on his trip that Harry didn’t miss you. He was focused on his job but he was still thinking about you. He was constantly wondering about what you were doing at home. When he took his break he just laid there and the cuddles and kisses he’d get if you were there with him. He also missed listening to your passenger horror stories and pushing you to just keep going. And on top of all that, Harry missed all the times you two would try to quietly go at it in the bathroom or crew resting area depending on whether or not you two were the only ones on break. Even though he was able to talk to you during his layover, he was counting the days and eventually hours until he came back home to you. As soon as he landed on the tarmac at the airport, Harry was on a mission to get home. After following all the necessary after flight procedure and filling out all of the necessary paperwork, Harry threw his bag into his car and sped home to you.

Surprisingly, Harry was able to get home and not get a ticket. He quickly pulls into the driveway and carries himself and his bag into the house. When he walks through the front door, Harry could immediately feel your presence. He could feel your warmth radiating through the entire house. All he had to do now as find you. Before checking upstairs, he makes his way around the main level of the house to look for you. As he exits the kitchen and makes his way down the hall, Harry could hear your soft hums getting louder and louder. When he reaches the laundry room, he sees you standing at the folding in the corner. Simply seeing you bought a big smile to his face. He then wastes no time coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your smaller body.

“Honey I’m home.” Harry happily coos in your ear before pressing a soft kiss below it. When he does this, you turn around in his arms to get a better look at him.

“Welcome home.” You whisper back to him, lifting yourself up onto your tips of your toes to bring your lips to his. As soon as your lips connect, the both of you release sighs of content. You two were back together. It doesn’t take long for Harry’s arms to tighten around your body and hoist you up onto the table behind you. The kiss lasts a little longer before you pull away from his lips.

“How was your long haul without me?” You hum, sliding your hands up the lapels of his jacket.

“It was hell.” Harry says pointedly.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Was thinking about you the whole time.” Harry frowns a little at you to emphasize his point.

“I missed you too baby.” You coo softly to him. You then reach up and pull the captains hat off of his head, sitting it down next to you before pushing your hands through his greying curls. When you two first met, he had some grey hairs here and there. But now they had taken over just about all of his head; and you were very into it. “Any annoying kids or weird old ladies?” You ask him.

“For the kids, I wouldn’t know. I like to stay in the front of the plane or the crew area.” Harry begins truthfully. “But as for the old ladies, they always want to break off a piece of this.” He continues smugly.

“Why would they want you? Do they wanna swap arthritis creams or something?” You joke with a laugh, watching his face fall in the process.

“I will have you know that I’m considered a silver fox. And you know it.” Harry defends, slightly tilting his head up away from you. When he says this all you could do was pucker your lips and bite the inside of them because what he said was in fact true. You just couldn’t let him know that. “Now what’d you get into while I was gone?” Harry asks curiously with a smirk from his previous victory.

“Did some stuff around the house and I did a little missing you retail therapy.” You reply happily.

“So I take it that the credit card bill this month is gonna be a little higher than normal?” Harry asks suspiciously.

“Just a little.” You whisper trying to undermine your shopping spree.

“A little?” Harry asks you again, already knowing that you’re undermining how much you actually spent.

“Mhm.” You mumble, nodding your head sweetly in the process.

“You’re too cute and pretty for your own good.” Harry chuckles and shakes his head down at you.

“You love it though.” You hum happily up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I do.” Harry sighs contently. This is what he missed. He missed being in your arms and just loving on you. He loved seeing your smile and feeing your small arms wrap around him. “I actually bought you a couple things.” Harry whispers, tightening his grip around your back.

“Is it more skimpy lingerie?” You question him, making sure to spread a wide smirk across your face. Instead of readily replying to you, Harry simply unwraps one of his arms from around your back and he brings it up to the front of your dress. Since the front of your dress was loosely wrapped around your body to keep it closed, Harry as able to simply pluck back the top a little to get a good look at your body beneath the fabric.

“Well I guess this is my cue to stop buying the lingerie, since you’re not even wearing it.” Harry points out, looking down into your dress to find your bare, supple breasts resting on your chest. It took a lot of self control for Harry in that moment to not stick his hand down your dress to take your plushy flesh into his hand.

“Well I thought it was for our sexy times or when I send you pictures while you’re on a trip and on your break or stuck in a hotel room without me.” You explain to him. You even throw in a little pout; you wanted to keep your fancy and very pretty lingerie flow going. “But I am wearing one of the pairs of panties you picked up in Italy if you wanna see how some of your purchases look on me.” You whisper lowly to him. You then use your arms that are hooked around his neck to pull his head down closer to yours. Harry was already a bit hard from finally being home with you. Now he was getting even harder from your words.

“Is it bad that I’ve only been home for 20 minuets and I’m already thinking about completely ravishing you?” Harry mumbles against your pillow soft lips. “Just so pretty baby.” Harry grumbles frustratedly before bringing his mouth the rest of the way to yours while pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He couldn’t believe that he, a man who turned 40 a couple months prior, was getting all riled up and turned on the same way he did 20 plus years ago. That was just the age defying effect you had on him.

“No, not at all.” You begin as you pull away from the short lived yet beyond passionate kiss, slowly bringing your left hand up the back of his neck to his hair. “In fact, every time I see you in your head to toe pilots get up, I’m always fighting the strong urge to fall to my knees and take your cock down my throat.” You bluntly continue, your voice filled with a very nonchalant and teasing tone.

When this statement left your mouth, Harry was a little bit taken aback. But at the same time he wasn’t. After slowly building up your friendship that in no time blossomed into a more romantic relationship together, Harry was able to slowly show you the ropes so to speak and teach you just about everything you knew when it came to the bedroom and a happy and healthy relationship. When you two progressed to the more intimate stage of your budding relationship, you were pretty inexperienced. You didn’t know your way around the bedroom at all. You we’re still a virgin and you didn’t even know the ins and outs of making out with someone. All you knew was that this smart, extremely kind, absolutely gorgeous, and just overall stunning human being, older man who just so happened to be the pilot on your flight had taken a strong interest in you. And luckily for you, your lack of experience was the least of his concerns. It was like you hit the jackpot with him. Fast forward to now when you two are a married couple, you’ve taken all of the tips and tricks he’s taught over time and you’re running with it. Harry wasn’t the only who had the ability to do things to your body that would make your toes to curl, your entire body to go numb, and cause your mind to deem it all indescribable. You also had the ability to turn Harry into a pleasured, borderline incoherent, and moaning mess; something that most women in his past who were his age or slightly older weren’t even able to do. So it wasn’t a complete surprise that those words came from your mouth.

“Who knew that my pretty little wife had such a filthy mouth.” Harry gasps with a condescending tone.

“Well I’m not a prudish old man like you.” You simply reply. This was the button in Harry that you loved to push.

“I don’t know where you’re getting that from but I’m far from prudish and I’m definitely not an old man.” Harry says matter of factly. “If I remember it correctly, I made you wear vibrating panties for the entirety of an 18 hour flight.” Harry recalls, making his point against being called prudish.

“Everyone uses those. Especially older men.” You smugly whisper back, pushing even harder on this button of his.

Harry knew exactly what you were doing. He knew that you were pushing his button so that he’d unleash everything he had built up over the course of his trip into you. It didn’t take much for him to realize that you wanted him to really make up for not being with you for almost a week. The both of you were itching to feel and be around each other again. After you and Harry made it past the learning and teaching phase of you guys’ sex life, the two of you acquired a constant hunger for one another. When you and Harry had some time off, the sex would be nonstop. Whether it was cockwarming or full on sex where you’re riding his cock or he was slamming himself deep into your pussy, you and Harry were always looking for ways to be around each other like this. And it was exactly the same when you two were on the job. Even though you two didn’t have the freedom to go at it whenever you wanted, you and Harry still found ways to be with each other. For some reason, seeing each other dressed in your uniforms was a bit of a turn on. It didn’t help that the both of you were borderline thrill seekers and loved the rush that came along with trying to be quiet as you both were experiencing some of the best pleasure you’d ever felt.

“Well do all older men pound and shove their cocks into their girlfriends, and now wives tight little cunts over and over again until she’s begging and crying for him to slow down and let them cum? Because if not, I’ve got countless stories about me doing that to you in the cramped bathroom on a flight, in restaurant bathrooms, dressing rooms, upstairs, on the couch, the kitchen counter, right here on this table, and many other places.” Even though you acted confident and enjoyed battling Harry for dominance, you were able to easily fall into a more submissive role. The way he’s calmly able to say the filthiest things made your body quake and your panties become even more soaked than they already were. You were never going to be able to forget about all of those times. How and why would you ever forget the times where he’s hoisted you up against a door or a wall, or pushed you down against the counter, tightly wrapped a hand around your mouth to keep you quiet, and deliciously slammed his cock up into you? If you focused in on those memories, you could remember and almost feel him inside you.

That’s what you wanted right now. You wanted him to pound into you so hard that you’d a sore, moaning mess and you wanted to make up for the time you two weren’t together. This was the first time in a good while that you weren’t scheduled for a flight with Harry and you really missed him. And his cock. So if you had to push one of his buttons to really get what you both wanted, you were going to do it.

“Well I think you guys can do that,” You begin, pausing to run your hands down from his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders. “I just think that you may need a little help if you know what I mean.” You finish. When you say this, Harry knows exactly what you were implying and he wasn’t having any of it.

“You and this pretty little body of yours is gonna get it.” Harry growls before yanking you up from the table and pulling you into his body. He quietly marches you both up the stairs and to your shared bedroom. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he releases his once tight grip on your body and drops you down onto the bed. He continues to go about everything silently, shoving his jacket off of his shoulders and working on his tie and shirt.

“You look really hot in that uniform just so you know.” You admire from the bed below him. You watch him chuckle at your statement as he shrugs his shirt and undone tie off his body. You were really turned on right now. Like the sight of his bare, toned and tattooed chest and arms was a sight you could stare at forever. Add onto that the fact that he was mad and taking control over you and you were setup to be a complete mess. And your panties could definitely attest to that. You were completely drenched and dying to feel him against and inside you.

“You don’t have to butter me up baby.” Harry begins as he undoes his shoes. “M’still gonna take care of you and that smart mouth of yours.” Harry guarantees, shoving his shoes and socks off his feet and standing back up to work on his pants. “Gonna make sure you know what I can do to you.” Harry finishes, finally undoing his belt and shoving his pants along with his boxers down his legs. When you see his thick and very hard cock, you couldn’t stop a moan or two from escaping your mouth. “I take it someone needs my cock.” Harry chuckles at your desperation for his cock. He planned on showing you just how much you needed him. He then comes closer to the edge of the bed and in one swift motion, Harry pulls you up from your lying position and flips you onto your front. He masterfully undoes the tie on the back of your dress and he flips you back onto your back. He tugs at the fabric, opening your dress and exposing your partially naked body to him. He takes a moment to admire your body and all he could do is bite his lip. He couldn’t believe that he managed to be away from this for nearly an entire week.

Harry quickly snaps out of his trance when he feels his cock twitch slightly and he leans down to scoop you up into his arms. When he does this, Harry keeps you low in his grip so that you’d be right against his cock. He keeps one arm securely around your body and pulls your arms from the dress. Once it’s completely off of you, he drops it into the pile of his clothes and drops you back onto the bed. Before crawling up and on top of you, Harry uses your claves to push you a little higher up onto the bed and to flip you back onto your stomach. When he does this, you really know you’re in for it. Whenever you were in this position Harry really made sure to slam into you and make you scream. When he crawls up and is on top of you from behind, he wastes no time in ripping the barely there panties off your body. For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry didn’t snap the delicate undergarment in half. Once they’re out of the way, Harry has complete access to your body.

“Gonna be a good girl and take daddy’s cock?” Harry asks, squeezing the flesh of your ass before raising it up just to crash it back down.

“Mhm.” You whimper, really feeling the sting from the sudden slap.

“Use your words.” Harry demands, raising his hand back up to deliver another slap to your backside.

“Yes daddy.” You cry out to him, this time feeling not only the sting of his slaps but also feeling of your juices dripping onto the sheets.

“Good girl.” Harry hums at your response. He then straddles your thighs, wanting to keep you in place when he pushes into you. He lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you, and he grips onto his cock to give himself a good squeeze, resulting in him letting out a loud grumble behind you (that went straight to your clit). He tightly grips onto the flesh of one of your cheeks and he pulls your ass apart to get a better view of you. When he sees your puckered hole, Harry gets a little idea. In the process of lining himself up with your entrance, Harry uses his cock to put a little pressure on your tighter hole. When he does this, words begin to pour out of your mouth.

“M’too tight daddy.” You rush out to him, trying to stop his actions. Harry knew that you were too tight for him at the moment, but he just liked to work you up a little and hear you beg.

“Don’t worry baby. When were done, daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready for his cock.” He promises, lowering his cock from your second hole down to the first. When you feel his thick head nudging at your entrance, your moans got louder. You needed him to be inside you already.

“Want your big cock daddy.” You beg. You try to move back against him but he’s practically sitting on your thighs, which is pinning you to the bed.

“Whats the magic word?” Harry teases.

“Please daddy?” And with that, Harry is finally sinking his cock into you. When you feel his cock stretching you to fit all of him, your mind goes blank. All you could come up with was strings of loud moans and feeling good. You felt full agains which was all you really wanted. As he continues to sheath his cock with your walls, Harry’s hand leaves his shaft and goes right to your other cheek. He pulls your ass completely apart and watches as his cock disappears into you.

“That’s it, take this cock sweetheart.” Harry pants in amazement. He was still in awe at how a small woman like you was able to take every last inch of his manhood. Once he’s fully inside, Harry’s eyes trail up your body to find you resting your cheek against the sheets with your mouth wide open. Thats what he wanted to see. Keeping his hands on your ass, Harry lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you and goes straight into slamming in and out of your tight and very wet pussy. As he does this, your entire body quakes at the amazing sensation of him fucking you. Feeling him pound into your stomach as he called you his sweet girl and his pretty little wife was beyond extraordinary. You could feel the familiar tight and warm knot beginning to form in the pit of your stomach already.

As Harry fucks into you, he’s beyond turned on. The way you’re pinned below him as he shoves his cock deep into you along with you pitifully whimpering, moaning, and crying at how good he felt was really doing things to Harry. He never wanted to be away from you ever again. He wanted to feel you every single day.

After fucking into you from behind for a good while and feeling the tight burning sensation forming in the pit of his stomach as well, Harry figures that he’s going to cum soon and he wants to watch your face twist as he does. He then proceeds to stop thrusting all together and pull out of you, which causes you to grumble, resulting in you receiving a hard “shut up” slap to your ass. He then gets lifts himself off of you and flips tugs you onto your back. He knocks your legs apart and gets in between them before slamming his cock back into you.

“Like this baby. Like it when daddy takes control of this tight little cunt of yours?” He pants, continuing to slam his his cock into you. You were too caught up in how good he was making you feel that you couldn’t even form a worded response. All you could do was thrash your head against the bed in agreement. When he sees this, a very wide smirk rises to his face. This is exactly what he missed and wanted to see. You taking all of his cock while you’re quivering and barely holding on. As he continues, Harry can feel the warmth from the pit of his stomach spreading to his entire body, signifying to him that his release was getting extremely close. Judging by the way your once tight grip on the sheets has gone loose, your pitiful whimpers, and the way you’re tightening up around him you’re feeling the exact same way. To make you cum around his cock, with him following right behind you Harry only has to do two things. First, he brings his palm to your lower stomach and presses it into you; putting pressure on the warm knot that was about to explode and allowing him to feel his cock moving inside you. He then comes down, bringing his mouth to your ear to whisper one thing into your ear. “Not too bad for an old man right?” Harry hums patronizingly into your ear. He wanted you to eat your words. And you were. His words, the pressure from his hand, and his cock causes you to burst at the seams around him. You let out a mixture of gasps and whimpers as you completely let go around Harry’s cock. When he feels your walls contracting around him, Harry lets go as well. He releases every last drop of the sexual frustration he’d been carrying around all week; and it felt so good. He loved painting your walls with his cum.

Once the both of you are done and it’s safe to pull out, Harry’s slowly pulls his sopping wet cock from your cunt and collapses onto the bed next to you.

“Harry, I can’t feel my legs.” You whimper after a couple minuets of silence.

“M’surprised you’re not used to it by now.” Harry hums smugly. Once he says this, a temporary lull fell over you two. You and Harry were very anxious to go at it again, but you two were holding off to see who would initiate round two.

“Did you take something before you came in the house?” You whisper over to him, deciding that you needed to be the one to initiate round two.

“Do I need to come over there and shove my cock down that pretty throat of yours for you to get the point?” Harry chuckles at your persistence.

“Only if you want to.” You whisper sweetly.

“Oh I want to, and don’t you doubt that.” Harry says matter of factly.

“Well can we cuddle first? Haven’t cuddled since the night before you left.”

“Anything you want.” Harry coos before moving closer to your limp body.

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