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#lower the retirement age
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Take a Spa Day, You Need It
Spas are strange places, and it heavily depends on which one you go to in regards to the experience you will get. However, taking a day to relax, get a nice massage, facial, etc, is crucial to our mental health. Some cultures already have daily rituals of taking designated time for relaxation, such as Spain and their mid-day siestas, or Greece's early retirement age and plentiful vacation days (please work out your EU debts though guys). On the other hand, Americans are absolute workaholics and happily slave away for corporations that hardly give them any paid vacation days if any at all. Not even Japan has such awful work benefits, and the work culture there is even more rigorous than in the States. There's no room for relaxation, only work with a side of a sedentary, unfulfilling lifestyle. There's plenty of attractions, parks, museums, and other landmarks that the United States has to offer, along with some of the most diverse natural beauty in the world, but our labor policies are that of the Gilded Age, with union busting and corporations willingness to abuse their political power being all too prevalent in such a modern time, taking all of this entertainment and leisure away from the workers and taking it all for themselves. We work ourselves to death just so a select few may enjoy the world, its offerings, as well as take leisure domestically (in the context of the U.S). To my workers in the U.S.A, carpe instrumenta productonis (seize the means of production) and carpe diem. Take a day off, call out, submit PTO, and even if they deny it, take that day off anyway, they'll survive without you, and they can't deny you a day off that you need. Don't keel over to them even if they beg you to come in, trust me, they don't care about you. Take care of yourself, get that back massage, and drink some nice alcohol, smoke some weed (responsibly of course), and completely relax, you deserve it.
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changing-my-username · 8 months
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Woman who is entitled to £115k a year pension at the age of 48 as a former PM thinks retiring at 66 is too young.
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amandabe11man · 1 year
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france protesting violently bc they raised the retirement age from 62 to 64. meanwhile sweden’s is 65 most of the time and they’re talking about raising it to 67...
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beeben · 1 month
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Crazy to me how ppl judge their decision making on whats illegal and what's not versus whats dangerous and whats not
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b0bthebuilder35 · 4 months
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rowarn · 3 months
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NEIGHBORLY.
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simon riley/reader feat. soap + gaz
tags: smut, established relationship (engaged), retired!simon, neighbors!soap+gaz, afab!reader, gn!reader, age gap (not specified but i imagine 30s/20s), long winded pwp
cw: voyeurism, size difference, no foursome, cucking, throat fucking with fingers, blowjob, dacryphilia, pet names: love/lovie/sweetheart, praise, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, wet&messy, simon picks up reader bridal, striptease?, fingering, dirty talk, praise, lots of compliments!!!, masturbation, clothed/naked sex, standing sex, hand on throat!!!!!, creampie
; two guys called soap and gaz move in next door and aren't good at hiding the crush they develop on you. your fiance, simon, decides they're fun to play with.
"You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead."
8.5k words
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When your fiancé surprised you by buying a quaint little house for the two of you to spend the rest of your lives together in, you were elated. It was straight out of your dreams, cute and cozy, yellow on the outside and enough room for a little garden if you so wished. It was in a quiet neighborhood but near enough to everything you needed that you could walk there if you so chose. 
It was all so perfect – living with the love of your life in your first house together. Ready to start your lives and plan the upcoming wedding. Things were peaceful and you couldn’t have been happier. 
Then the house next door sold. 
“You really have to give them away?” Simon huffed from where he sat at the table, cheek resting on his propped up hand. His lidded gaze followed you as you flitted about the kitchen, cat-themed apron covered in flour.
You laugh over your shoulder, “It’s the polite thing to do! We have to be good neighbors!”
“They smell good…” Simon muttered, only making your smile broaden as you walked over to him.
His hands found your hips when you placed yours on his broad shoulders, black t-shirt getting white specks all over it from the flour still on your fingers, “After I get back from delivering these I’ll make a whole batch just for you, deal?”
He tongues the inside of his cheek before nodding, “Let’s get it over with.”
“You’re coming?” you ask, brows raised in surprise. 
“Of course,” he huffs, giving your bottom a little pat when you bend over to grab the tupperware out of the lower cabinet. 
You giggle and carefully place parchment paper inside before organizing the cookies in a way that looks nice. You pop the lid on and make your way to the door where Simon is leaning against it with his arms over his chest. 
You try your best not to ogle him but he looks damn good; a simple pair of blue jeans fastened with a leather belt and a tight shirt that hugs his pecs and stretches the sleeves around his biceps when they flex. 
“Maybe when we get back,” you hum, slipping your feet into your slides, “You can let me suck your dick on the couch, yeah?”
Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t do a good job of hiding the crooked smile that slips across his face. He turns his back to you and opens the door for you before following you out and down the porch.. 
His heavy boots pound against the stairs, reminding you just how intimidating his stature is. It makes you pause, halfway between your yard and the new neighbors. You turn around and look up at him.
“What?” he raises a thick brow, crossing his arms over his chest again.
“Just…” you take a few steps backwards, playfully squinting at him with pursed lips, “Stay here, okay? We don’t want to scare the new neighbors.”
“You implying I’m scary, love?” he huffs, a smirk on his lips.
“I’m not implying it, Si,” you grin, “Just stay here while I deliver these.”
“You’re the boss,” he sighs. 
True to his word, his feet remain planted right where he stands as you cross into the new neighbors yard. You hop up the stairs and ring the doorbell. 
You hear a clamoring from the other side of the door before there’s a slam against the surface and muffled cursing. You bite back a laugh before smiling politely when the door swings open. 
Two men stand in the doorway, one with a mohawk stands closest to you – probably the one who ran into the door. 
“Oh,” he clears his throat, fixing his posture before flashing you a crooked grin, “Can-can we help ye?”
The other man, with pretty, brown eyes scoots closer, bumping shoulders with the other man, “You’re from next door.”
“Huh?!” The mohawk man gawks, whipping his head over to stare at the other man, “We had a pretty neighbor this whole time and you kept it to yerself?!”
“Are those for us?” he ignored his companion and looked at the tupperware in your hands.
“Oh!” you brush off mohawks comment and nod, holding the box out, “I made you some cookies. They’re just plain chocolate chip, I hope you don’t mind.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” he kindly smiles and takes the container from you, fingers brushing against yours. 
“So,” mohawk rests his arm up on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, “My name’s Johnny but everyone calls me Soap.”
“Nice to meet you,” you nod your head in greeting, introducing yourself before looking at the other man who has opened the tupperware to take a cookie out.
“Kyle,” he offers before taking a bite, humming in satisfaction, “These are delicious.”
“Hey, don’t hog those for yourself, ye pig!” Soap cries, snatching a cookie out of the container before shoving the whole thing in his mouth with a moan, “These are good.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you like them,” you giggle, “You can return the tupperware whenever you’re ready.”
“So,” Soap hums before you can leave, “You’re pretty and you can bake, what else can you do? How about you come in and we can get to know each other more.”
You bashfully lower your head and laugh, “I don’t think my fiance would appreciate that very much.” You gesture over your shoulder. 
Both men comically lean out of the doorway to look into the yard where Simon still stands, arms over his chest, brown eyes practically piercing through them.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Soap mutters under his breath before sighing, “Figures, I suppose. Lucky bastard.”
You shake your head tossing a little wave to Simon before looking back at your neighbors, “I’ll be seeing you guys around. Enjoy the cookies!”
You can feel their eyes on you as you go and it isn’t until you reach Simon that you hear the door shut. 
Your fiance looks down at you when you stand in front of him, “They liked the cookies.”
“Bet they did,” he hums, letting you take his hand and lead him back to the house where he proceeds to demand a fresh batch just for himself – as you promised. 
The next time you see your neighbors, it’s just Kyle. You’re outside, kneeling in the grass with your hands covered in dirt as you plant some flowers. 
“Hey there, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls from behind. 
You turn to look to see Kyle dressed in a compression shirt, shorts, and running shoes, “Oh hello, Kyle!”
“Doin’ some dirty work, are you?” he asks, eyeing the holes you’re carefully digging.
“Just getting started on my garden,” you explain, “What about you? Going for a run?”
“That’s right,” he nods, “May be on leave but gotta keep movin’ or I go crazy.”
“Leave?” you ask, sitting up straight in interest, “You’re in the military?”
His eyes light up as he nods, “That’s right. Soap and I both.” 
“You don’t live on base?” you ask, unable to hide your interest. 
“Nah, had to live in the barracks for way too long I couldn’t handle it anymore,” he laughs, a charming smile that makes you smile back, “You interested in military men, love?” he asks, flirtatious tone more than obvious.
You laugh softly, “You could say that,” his brows raise in interest, “My fiance is ex-military. Discharged at Lieutenant for an injury.”
His smile is wiped from his face quickly and you bite back another laugh, “Right, your fiance.”
“I could introduce you, if you’d like,” you offer, “Simon doesn’t really get to talk to many people who know what the military is really like–”
“That’s alright, love,” Kyle says, smiling politely, “I’ve got a run to go on, I’m sure I’ll get the chance to meet him soon enough.”
“Alright,” you wave, hands still covered in dirt as he makes his way back to the sidewalk before jogging off and out of sight. 
You finish planting and watering before you place all your tools in the shed and head back inside. Simon sits at the kitchen table, watching the tv that plays some movie from the living room. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets without looking away. 
“Hi baby!” you chirp, making your way over to the sink so you can scrub your hands free of dirt, “I ran into Kyle outside!”
“Who?” he asks, barely showing any hint of interest. 
“One of the guys from next door!” you remind him, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands dry, “Turns out they’re both in the military!”
“Is that right?” that finally gets his attention.
You nod, turning to look at him, “I offered to introduce you but I think they’re a little scared of you after all.”
He laughs through his nose before standing up, approaching you in a couple broad steps. He crowds you against the counter, hands on either side of you to prevent you from fleeing, “Think they wanna fuck you, lovie.”
You swallow thickly and look up at him, “Th-They’re just flirts…”
He hums, leaning down to press his lips against your neck, “Think I don’t know blokes like that? Young guys in the military like them only think about stuffing their pathetic pricks into whatever tight, wet cunts they can find.”
“S-Si, I haven’t showered yet…” you whisper when he starts trailing his lips along the side of your neck, “I was outside, remember?”
He scoffs, “What kinda man do you take me for?”
You giggle, squirming your way out of his hold, prancing past him and towards the stairs, “You can show me what kind of man you are after a shower.”
A grin spreads across his face as he chases after you, your sweet giggles music to his ears and cock already hard and heavy against his thigh, ready for you to be beneath him or the night.
He waits patiently for you to finish your shower. The second you’re out, a towel the only thing wrapped around you, he has you pinned on the bed. 
“You like keeping me waitin’, lovie?” he huffs, nipping at your jaw as he tugs your towel open so he can palm your breasts. You spread your legs for him, legging your knees rest on his hips, “Leavin’ me here with a hard-on. Got my cock achin’, sweetheart.”
“Si…” you sigh wistfully, lashes fluttering as his dirty words make you clench around nothing, “I-I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh?” he grins, broad tongue licking flat over one of your nipples, “I like the sound of that. You gonna let me use that pretty cunt?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his strong shoulders from the pleasure his tongue brings you.
“So sweet for me,” he hums, rough hands sliding down your body, over your hips and trailing along your thighs until goosebumps rise on your skin. He brings two fingers between your legs to spread your folds apart, the sticky noise audible between the two of you and it makes him snicker, “You’re this wet?”
Your cheeks burn in humiliation, “Sh-Shut up, don’t be mean.”
“Mean?” he asks incredulously, “You’re callin’ me mean while I’m playin’ with this pretty cunt?”
You open your mouth to retaliate but he slides two thick digits into your pussy. You whimper at the burn that it causes but it fades quickly when he crooks his fingers just right to prod that sweet little spot inside you. 
Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as he surges up to pull you into a kiss. You whimper into the kiss as he continues to stretch you open on his fingers, carefully introducing a third so you can take his cock later with ease. As you kiss, you grind your hips against his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit. The pleasure makes you sigh and shiver, a sweet little sound that makes Simon’s cock twitch in interest. 
The kiss is sloppy and wet, messy strings of spit between your lips every time you part to take a breath. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his fingers as he fucks you with them, scissoring his digits to really stretch you out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can wait 
“Please, Si,” you gasp, the plea making him stop, glancing over your face to see how badly you really need it. 
He sits back on his knees, flingers sliding out of your cunt with an obscene schlick. He unbuttons his jeans and moves the fabric out of the way so he can pull his hard, leaky cock free. He wraps his hand around himself, using the slick covering his fingers to lube himself up. 
“Take it off,” you whine, making him pause. 
He wants you so bad, just wants to fold you up and stuff his aching cock right in the tight, hot clutch of your pretty pussy. But the puppy-dog eyes you’re giving him has him huffing and obeying. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mutters, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt so he can yank it over his head. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, leaning up to run your hands over his chest and abdomen, feeling the firmness underneath your explorative fingers while he rids himself of his pants and boxers. 
Once he’s finally bare, he gives you no more time to admire his body before he’s pinning you down underneath his massive weight. You can’t do anything but let him, breathing in his scent while enveloped by his overwhelming warmth. 
He grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down between your folds, circling your clit to spread his precum all over it before meanly slapping the head against the little bud. The impact makes your thighs twitch and jump, a choked whimper of his name escaping your throat. 
You arch your hips just right, finally drawing the fat head of his cock into your clenching cunt. He grunts, thumb coming up to swirl against your clit.
“Oh, that feels so good, Si,” you whimper, your praise making his whole body shudder as he works his hips forward, sinking more of his cock into you.
“I know, love,” he chokes out, eyes pinned on where you slowly take him inch by methodical inch, “I treat this little cunt just right, don’t I?”
“Uh-huh!” you whimper, thighs twitching against his waist when he hits that sweet spot with practiced ease, sinking balls deep easily with how absolutely soaked you are for him, “No one fucks me as good as you, Si.”
He plants both hands on either side of your head, pulling his hips back so only the head is enveloped by your hot little pussy before he rolls his hips forward and stuffs his full length right back inside. He hits your cervix, a painful shot zaps up your spine and makes you grasp his arms to dig your nails into his skin. 
“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, lovie,” he huffs, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as an apology for hurting you. 
His next thrust isn’t as deep, avoiding slamming against your poor cervix but still deep enough that he can grind his pelvis right against your clit every time his hips meet yours.
“Simon!” you squeal, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your orgasm building.
“Fuck, look at that,” he grunts, head hanging between his shoulders, his wild hair tickling your face as he watches the creamy mess you’re covering his cock in, “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, lovie.”
“You’re gonna make me cum!” you sob, hands slapping against his shoulders when he suddenly redoubles his efforts, encouraged by your announcement.
“I know I am, sweetheart,” he grunts, teeth clenched, “Always make this pretty cunt cum don’t I?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” you wail, throwing your arms around his neck, nails drawing thick, red marks down his back, “Cumming, cumming, cumming, Si! Fuck!”
He curses right in your ear, one arm wrapping under your arched back to pull your chest snug against his. He grinds his cock into you, no longer pounding into the gushing heat of your pillowy cunt, humping his pelvis against your clit to work you through the orgasm. 
When you sag against him, sticky cunt still spasming around him from the aftershocks, he starts fucking you again, this time to his own end. He grunts and groans in your ear, body trembling from the effort of getting his own orgasm – his reward for making you cum nice and hard around him like you deserve. 
“Shit, I love you s’much,” he slurs, lips getting loose from how close his high grows closer. His heavy balls slap against you, aching from how full they are, needing to fill you up with the load he built up just for you, “My pretty baby, so sweet and wet for me. A nice, perfect cunt for me to fuck, shit.”
Your cunt clenches pathetically at his filthy words, hearts in your eyes as you watch how handsome he looks with his brows furrowed and his pupils blown huge, making his brown eyes appear black, “Love you, Si. Please cum inside me, wanna feel you cum, please.”
He pants, slumping against your chest as he uselessly works his hips until his orgasm finally washes over him, spilling his cum inside you with a final, long, drawn out moan. 
“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, hoarse and breathless as his cock throbs and pulses, spitting out ropes of cum that fill you up just right, “Take it all.”
“Ah…Si…” you sigh softly, carding your fingers through his hair as he rests against you, waiting for his cock to stop twitching from the aftershocks before he pulls out. 
“You alright, lovie?” he coos, soothing his large hands over your body, “You did so well.”
You smile, cheeks warm and body buzzing from the incredible dick he had just given you, “Never better. You’re so handsome.”
He scoffs, rolling over to toss his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. He picks up  his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe off his softened cock, cleaning the mess of your combined cum off of himself.
You hum, “I have to take another shower. Would you like to join me this time?”
He looks up at that, eyes twinkling in interest.
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One afternoon, there’s a knock on your door that interrupts your peaceful dinner preparations. You wipe your hands off on your apron and make your way to it, passing by where Simon is transferring the wet clothes into the dryer. 
On the other side stands Soap, an empty tupperware container in his hands. 
“Hey there, darlin’,” he greets, holding the box out, “Gaz and I loved ‘em.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” you giggle, taking it from his hands, careful not to touch his hands with leftover vegetable residue on your own.
“Somethin’ smells heavenly,” he groans, leaning over your shoulder to take a whiff of the aroma drifting from your kitchen.
“I’m just making dinner,” you explain with a little shrug.
“Guess you’re one hell of a cook too, huh?” he compliments, a charming smile on his face.
“I get by,” you laugh.
“Say,” he says suddenly, “Is that big bastard really your fiance?”
You blink in surprise at his bold question, “Y-Yes..?” your response comes out more as a question. 
“Is that a problem?” a deep, annoyed voice comes from behind you. 
You jump when Simon’s firm, tattooed arm wraps around your waist, “Si, you should be watching the stove.”
“You go ahead and finish up, lovie,” he mutters, kissing your temple before shooing you away from the door. 
“Ah,” Soap clears his throat awkwardly, as his back straightens, “Simon was it?”
“You’d be wise to watch your tongue,” Simon warns, “I’m not above putting you in your place.”
“Y-Yes sir,” Soap whispers, hands clasped behind his back, “I’ll be more mindful.”
“Get the hell off my porch,” Simon orders, watching the young man tuck his tail and dash down the stairs. 
Simon quietly closed the door and made his way back to the kitchen where you were plating the food, “Everything okay, Si? You weren’t too hard on him, were you?”
Simon bites back a smile and takes the plates from your hands to put them on the table for you, “Who do you think I am?”
You give him a skeptical look before taking a seat in front of your food, “I don’t want to make enemies with our neighbors, Simon.”
He sighs, taking a seat across from you, “Alright, I’ll be nice, love. I promise. I’ll go over tomorrow and apologize for bein’ rude, will that make you happy?”
“Yes,” you smile, “They’re not too bad. They’re just…rambunctious. You said so yourself, you know how their types are! They’re just flirts.”
He nods, “They’re…interesting characters.”
The next day, true to his word, the next morning, Simon is standing in front of their door. 
“Oh, hello neighbor,” Kyle greets nervously, “Is there something you need?”
“Your friend,” Simon grunts, “I’d like to talk to him.”
Kyle looks worried for a second, glancing over his shoulder where Simon assumes Soap was, “Whatever he did, don’t mind him. He’s just an idiot.”
Simon huffs out a laugh through his nose, “I wanted to apologize to him.”
“Oh!” Kyle gasps before looking back over his shoulder, “Soap, door for you!”
Soap rounds the corner and freezes when he sees Simon standing there, “Hello, sir.”
“Soap, right?” Simon says, “Listen, I was rude last night. I wanted to apologize.”
“Ah, well,” Soap shifts on his feet, casting a sideways glance at his friend, “I-I deserved it, I shouldn’t have said what I said either. Your relationship isn’t any of my business.”
Soap actually looks like a kicked puppy and Simon feels his own interest piqued, “Pretty, huh?”
“Sir?” Soap blinks in confusion.
Simon says your name, “Pretty little thing. Can’t blame you for makin’ eyes.”
“I…” Soap licks his lips, blue eyes wide in shock, “W-Well, yes, sir. Very pretty.”
Simon laughs softly, glancing over at his house where he knows you’re bustling about inside, “You think they’re pretty now. You should see them in nothing, bent over the kitchen table in tears.”
Soap’s throat moves as he swallows around the lump in his throat, mind conjuring up sinful images. Kyle’s eyes practically bug out of his head at Simon’s words.
The large man gives a tight lipped smile as a goodbye before he's stalking off of the porch, leaving the two young men slack-jawed and stunned into silence. 
When Simon’s in the safety of his own home, he places a hand over his face and lets out the low chuckles he had been holding back. 
“What’s so funny, Si?” you ask when you descend from the stairs, a laundry basket in your hands – the second load from yesterday that you hadn’t had the chance to do.
“Nothin’, lovie,” he grins, sharp canines on display, “Let me help you with that.”
“Did you make up with the neighbors?” you ask, letting him take the basket from your hands.
“I sure did,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leading the way to the laundry room. 
You give him a suspicious look but decide not to press the issue further, instead choosing to focus on the other chores you still had to do for the day. 
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Things seemingly settle down for a little while. You don’t see either of your new neighbors except for polite greetings in passing. All in all, things seem to quiet down. 
You’re relaxing with Simon on the back veranda, curled in his lap on a swinging bench with a book in your hands. Usually, you’d be scrolling on your phone but Simon was always adamant about being tech-free when you were outside together like this.
Enjoy nature and relax he would say, only laughing when you would call him an old man. 
Just as you start a new chapter in your book, Simon’s hand begins to wander. Your lips twitch as you fight smiling, watching his fingers slip beneath the leg of your lounge shorts. The feeling of his callused skin brushing against the hem of your panties already has you clenching around nothing. 
“Look so pretty like this,” he coos in your ear, hand coming from between your legs to wrap around your throat.
You smile against his lips, “I haven’t even gotten dressed yet today.”
“I know,” he breathes, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, simple kiss before pulling back to add, “You’re pretty without even havin’ to try, lovie.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I let you in my pants,” you tease, practically melting at the feeling of his thumb stroking the skin of your cheek. 
“Don’t gotta butter you up for that, do I sweetheart?” he coos, “You’ll let me right between those thighs without even havin’ to ask.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, heart pounding in your ears because he’s right. Even right now, your panties have grown sticky. His thumb traces over your lips and you open your mouth to let the digit inside. The action makes him raise a brow.
“You want somethin’ down that little throat?'' he asks. You nod your head, not caring how desperate you look, “Even with our little audience over there?”
He watches your eyes widen, clearly startled out of the moment. Your gaze flicks past his face to see your two neighbors Soap and Gaz on their back porch, both nursing beers. They look away when your gaze falls on them but it’s clear they’ve been watching the whole interaction with your fiance. 
“Don’t care,” you find yourself muttering, eyes falling back onto your fiance.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffs, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours, “Knew you were filthy, don’t mind if anyone watches you as long as your pretty cunt gets to cum, yeah?”
You feel breathless as you nod your head. Simon brings his index and middle fingers to your lips that you eagerly open up for him. 
“Good,” he praises, slowly slipping the fingers into your mouth, careful not to gag you on them until you’re ready. 
Your lips seal around the digits, rolling your tongue over the salty skin until they’re covered in spit. Then he slowly starts sliding them deeper into your mouth until the tips are buried in your throat.
“Relax, just like that, good,” he praises, cock leaking against his thigh at the sight of your eyes filling with tears. He pulls his fingers back carefully just to stuff them back in, biting back a groan when you choke around them. 
Simon casts a glance over his shoulder to see the two neighbors you were giving the show to watching with wide, unblinking eyes. Neither could take their eyes off of you as you eagerly let your fiance fuck your throat with his fingers. 
He could see Soap had his hand on his crotch, no doubt gripping his hard cock. Kyle at least had enough pride to not touch himself to the sight of you. 
You reach up to grab Simon’s wrist, signaling for him to pull his fingers out of your mouth. When he did, a string of thick drool connected your lips to the tips. The sight made his cock throb painfully, desperate for some kind of friction. 
“I want you, Si,” you whimper, reaching down to cup his hardened cock through his pants.
“Is that right?” he asks, raising a brow, “Is that pretty little pussy wet?”
You nod your head, “Want your tongue, Si.”
He licks his lips, chasing the fantasy taste of you before glancing back over to the neighbors who now don’t even bother hiding the fact they’re watching the two of you.
“Want me to eat you out right here?” he asks, subtly gesturing his head to next door.
“Don’t care about them,” you whine, a cute little frown on your face that he just couldn’t say no to. 
Before you knew it, Simon was on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties off in one fell swoop. You eagerly spread your legs, locking your arms around your knees to let Simon have as much room as he needed. 
“Look at you,” he coos, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, exposing your drooling entrance and swollen clit. 
The little bud twitched under his heated gaze, hole dribbling out more thick juices that made his mouth water. He can’t resist the call anymore, leaning forward to slide the flat of his tongue over the length of your cunt, ending with a flick against your clit that made your whole body twitch. 
“Thaaaaat’s it, pretty,” he coos, muffled from the way he refuses to part from your cunt, “Let us hear you.”
Your mouth falls open as he starts eagerly tonguing your pussy, swirling the muscle inside your hole before coming up to wrap his lips around your clit. He eats messy, not caring for all the drool and cum that covers his face or drips down to the floor below. 
He uses his thumbs to keep your folds spread so he can focus on your clit. His tongue swirls around and around, lathering the poor little bud in a heavy film of his spit before he’s wrapping his lips around it again and sucking. 
The feeling makes your back arch and you can’t help the loud moan that tears from your throat. Your nails dig into the soft meat of your thigh, the only thing you can grab from the position you’ve chosen for yourself. 
Simon’s eyes are closed and there’s a crease between his brows of concentration. Neither of you even remembers the fact you’re outside and have an audience of two just next door. All you can think about is how good your fiance’s tongue feels worshiping your clit. 
“Si!” you squeal when he reaches up to tug the hood of your clit back, exposing the little bud for him to tongue at. It’s so sensitive that it aches but it feels too good to stop him, only able to lay back and twitch as you take it. 
He groans in response to you calling his name, cock leaking down his thigh so much that his sweats are sticking to him. Your slick drips off of his chin and he can think of nothing but how good you smell and taste – a 5 star meal all laid out just for him.
“Oh, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out, “You’re gonna make me cum, Si!”
He can’t even bring himself to pull his mouth off of you to encourage you like he usually does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, slurping and sucking at your clit. His jaw is aching but it’s barely a blip on his radar as he feels the tender little bud throb beneath his tongue. 
Your orgasm washes over you quickly and hard. Your eyes roll back in your head as your jaw falls open, a symphony of pleasured cries flit through the air. Your fiance eagerly works you through the orgasm he so easily gave you, tongue swirling and circling your clit until your thighs clamp shut and you push him away, still trembling and shaking from the aftershocks. 
He pulls back, chest heaving as he finally takes the first deep breaths he’s gotten since he started. 
“Good?” he asks, licking his lips to clean your cum off of them.
You nod, breathless, “Take me inside and fuck me, please Si.”
He’s on his feet in seconds, scooping you up bridal style before hurrying back inside, forgetting all about the book you left behind – and the audience still on the porch next door. 
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You learn that Simon seems to really enjoy torturing your two neighbors when just a few nights later, he corners you in the bedroom. 
“Our neighbor’s a nosy little bastard,” he coos into your ear. 
You cast a glance over to the window where you can see Soap is lingering in front of his window, acting like he wasn’t watching and waiting to see what would happen next. 
“He’s waitin’ so patiently,” Simon says, “It’s only polite of us to give him somethin’ to look at.”
“Glad to see you’re finally being neighborly,” you tease, a cheeky grin growing on your face. 
Simon’s fingers hook under the hem of your shirt, sliding it up and up until you lift your arms and let him tug it over your head. Your bare breasts bounce free and Simon sucks in a breath at the sight.
“Fuck,” he coos, large hands cupping them, “Can’t believe I get to marry you some day.”
“We still need to pick a date,” you mutter, voice cracking when he wraps his lips around one perked nipple. 
He groans against your chest, “I’d marry you right fuckin’ now if you’d let me.”
You whimper, hands carding through his messy hair before he abruptly pulls away. He grips your shoulders and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest and you’re facing the window – and Soap, who still stands there stunned. 
Kyle pops in from the left, mouth dropping open at the sight of your tits on full display for them to ogle. Simon stares over your shoulder, watching their reactions as he gropes your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. 
You can’t stop the soft whimpers and gasps that fall from your lips as he plays with your nipples. Your thighs clench together, a weak attempt to quell the ache that settles in your cunt. You never thought you’d enjoy being watched like this – it felt so dirty and wrong but that’s exactly what turned you on. The fact your neighbors wanted you so badly that they would just watch you get touched like this. 
“You wanna give ‘em a show?” he asks, voice dark and deep in your ear, “Somethin’ they’ll be fistin’ their cocks to later?”
“Yes, anything, Si,” you whimper, hands coming up to grip his wrists as he squeezes your breasts, “I’ll do anything you want.”
“Then get on your knees,” he orders, letting your chest go so you can drop to your knees in front of him, “There you go. Just where you belong.”
He unbuckles his belt and pulls his zipper down, reaching inside his boxers to pull his half-hard cock out. You watch with wide eyes as he slowly strokes himself to full hardness. 
A bead of precum oozes from the tip and it makes your mouth water. Before Simon even says anything, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the head of his cock. A soft, sweet sound comes from his throat at the feeling of your hot, soft tongue sliding over the sensitive skin. 
His hand comes down to cradle your jaw, lidded gaze watching how you start to take him deeper. 
When he feels his cock pop into your throat, it feels like the air gets punched out of his lungs. His touch moves from your jaw to your throat, feeling the way it bulges the deeper you take his length down. 
He glances out the window to find Kyle has joined watching with rapt attention at how you swallow his cock. The sight of it makes him pulse in your throat and you whimper at the salty taste of his pre-cum on your tongue. 
When you’ve swallowed all of him that you can take, you bring up a hand to stroke him to the same rhythm that you bob your head. Simon tosses his head back, brown eyes rolling into his skull at the sloppy sounds of you choking and drooling all over him. 
He feels your spit dribble down his balls and over your chin to his hand. It’s everything – it’s messy and sloppy. He can’t even bring himself to look at you, too scared he’ll blow his load right down your tight little throat before he can even fully enjoy it to the fullest. 
“Fuck,” he groans, the sound going straight to your cunt. You can’t help but slip your hand down your panties, finding your cunt slippery and wet. Your fingers circle your clit as you gag around your fiance’s thick cock.
“That’s it, lovie,” he huffs, “Touch that pretty cunt for me.”
Your lashes flutter at his words, rocking your hips against your own touch. Simon’s hand rests on the top of your head, slowly starting to rock his own hips, heavy balls slapping against your chin with the movement. You halt stroking him with your hand and brace yourself against his thigh, giving him permission to fuck your face as he wants. 
“There you go,” he grunts, teeth gritted, “Cum on those fingers for me and I’ll cum down your throat, yeah? Think you can do that?”
You nod your head, doubling your efforts between your legs. The mess of drool that Simon fucks out of your mouth froths and drips everywhere, the entire endeavor growing messier and messier with each thrust he makes. 
Simon watches the way your eyes roll back in your head, thighs twitching and spasming around your hand. He can feel the muffled vibrations as you whine against the cock filling your mouth. 
With a final, deep groan, Simon’s balls draw up and his brows furrow before he’s spilling right down your throat – as deep as he can. You eagerly swallow around him, taking down every single drop he has to offer. 
When he’s finally done, cock still twitching in sensitivity as he slowly softens, he pulls out. His cock was a mess, drool and cum still clinging to the skin in sticky strings. 
“Fuck,” he laughs breathlessly, “That little throat is dangerous.”
You giggle, biting your lip as he moves towards the window, sending a last look to your neighbors before drawing the curtains closed. End of the show, it seems.
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You never thought about how you would feel when you’d have to face your two neighbors again. Given the fact they were actively in the military, you could go days before you caught sight of one of them again. Ever since Simon had started this little game of teasing the poor guys you hadn’t actually spoken to them face to face. 
“I invited Soap and Kyle over for dinner,” Simon muttered one late afternoon as he sipped on a cup of tea.
You nearly dropped the knife you were using to chop vegetables as you turned to look at your fiance in shock, “You what?!”
“Saw them while I was out on my mornin’ run,” he explained, taking a sip from his cup that was all too nonchalant for the utter anxiety that you felt, “Thought I’d be neighborly and invite them for dinner since we haven’t yet.”
“Simon!” you cry out indignantly, “How am I supposed to face them!?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, hiding his smile behind the cup.
“Th-They’ve watched us do all sorts of shit!” you whine, turning back around to anxiously cut the vegetables once again.
“So?” he hums, “We’re all adults. You think they can’t act normal just ‘cause they’ve seen you with a cock down your throat?”
You let out a frustrated sound, “You’re so-!”
“Relax, sweetheart,” he croons, placing his empty cup down, “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
You should have known better than to believe him. Simon seemingly couldn’t resist teasing the two men. As soon as all four of you were sitting at the table, you knew right away that this was not going to be the peaceful dinner you were hoping for. 
Kyle and Soap were painfully quiet, trying their best to keep their eyes off of you in fear of making your fiance angry. Simon was keenly aware of this and before any of you had a chance to finish your meals, he was pushing his chair back and pulling you from your own seat, your back pressed against his front.
“I think we all know what we want,” he sighs, “So why don’t we cut the shit and get on with it.”
Rough, experienced fingers slowly start undoing the buttons on your shirt. You had dressed up so nicely for your company and here he was, stripping it off of you in front of them instead. 
One by one the buttons came undone, your fiance giving you ample opportunity to stop him and back out should you decide this wasn’t something you wanted to do. But you never did.
Your breathing fastened and your heart raced in your chest at the excitement of the whole situation. Soap and Kyle sat in their seats, wide eyes following each methodical movement of your fiance until the final button was undone and they were able to see your bra. 
Kyle licked his lips at the sight of your breasts wrapped in the sheet material, giving just a hint at what was beneath. 
Soap follows Simon’s hand as it slides down your front to the button on your jeans. The button comes undone followed by your zipper, giving a little peak of the maroon colored panties you wore. 
“What do you think?” Simon asks them, nosing softly at your cheek until you let your head fall to the side, exposing your neck for him to kiss. 
“A fuckin’ dream,” Soap whispers, sounding like he’s in a daze. 
Kyle audibly gulps, too lost in a daze to say anything as his eyes practically burn holes into you. 
After pressing a kiss against your jaw, Simon finally slides the shirt off of your shoulders. The fabric flutters to the ground but you don’t have time to think about it before the clasp of your bra is undone and your bra joins it. 
Both men at the table inhale sharply at the sight of your bare breasts. 
“Prettier up close…” Kyle mutters, resting his chin on his hand, simply admiring the view before him. 
Simon takes a second to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands before his thumbs hook under the band of your pants and tugs them down. You shimmy in place, helping him tug them over your hips until they pool on the ground and you can step out of them completely. 
“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap whispers, leaning even closer from where he sits, trying to get an even better view of you standing in just a pair of pretty, sheer maroon colored panties. 
“Aren’t they so lucky?” Simon coos in your ear, one hand slipping between your thighs to cup your clothed pussy while the other eagerly gropes your tits, “Gettin’ to see you like this when only I should get to.”
“Si…” you whimper, gripping his arm in your hands as he carefully strokes you through your panties. 
“What do you say, men?” Simon asks sharply, glaring at your two guests.
“Thank you, sir,” both of them say in unison without taking their eyes off of you. 
Simon hums, seemingly satisfied enough to slip your panties down so you’re completely bared – the only one naked in the room. It made your cheeks burn in humiliation but that humiliation only made your wetter. 
Simon’s fingers slid between your folds, a sticky noise accompanying the movement. You hear him suck in a breath when he feels your slick coating his fingers. You lift your leg and place it on the nearby chair, giving both men at the table a perfect view of your pretty cunt being spread by your fiance’s fingers. 
“There you go, lovie,” he coos, “Show them how wet you get for me.”
He slips his middle finger inside, letting it slowly sink in the final knuckle. Your lashes flutter at the feeling of being stretched but it’s not enough – one finger would never be enough when you’ve had his perfect cock inside you so many times before. So Simon quickly slides his ring finger in right alongside his middle and your head falls back against his shoulder. 
You practically forget about the two pairs of eyes on you when he crooks his fingers just right and grinds the tips against that gooey little spot that makes your thighs tremble. 
“Si!” you squeal, nails biting into his wrist as you grind your hips, humping your hardened clit against his palm. 
“Yeah?” he responds, tucking you firmly against him so he can fuck you properly with his fingers. 
You’re unable to stop the cries and sobs of pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to orgasm with every press of his fingers against your sweet spot and every slap of his palm against your clit. Drool drips down your chin as your whole body twitches, eyes rolling back in your head as the orgasm builds and builds. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” Kyle breathes, a trembling hand placed over his mouth in awe. 
Finally, your high washes over you and you slump forward, held up only by Simon’s strong arm grappled around you. Your knees tremble as Simon’s fingers continue to fuck you through it until you’re gushing in messy spurts all over his hand every time his fingers are stuffed back inside. It splatters to the floor and drips down your thighs, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 
Simon pulls his fingers out of the hot clutch of your cunt with a humiliatingly loud squelch before he pops the digits right into his mouth, humming at the taste of your cum on his tongue. 
He lifts your chin up and immediately plants his lips right on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You sigh into the kiss, cum-drunk brain getting lost in the familiar affection. You don’t even notice Simon undoing his jeans until you feel the hot, blunt head of his cock prodding your entrance. You whimper into his mouth when he simply ruts his hips, sliding the head back and forth, over your clit and back down – coating himself in the cum he had already fucked out of you with his fingers. 
“How are you boys enjoyin’ the show?” Simon asks, suddenly reminding you of their presence. 
You dazedly look at them, finding both of them sitting back in their chairs, stroking their cocks in the open. Soap’s got a thick, veiny cock that looks like it would make you cry if you tried to take it down your throat. Kyle, on the other hand, has a long, pretty cock adorned with a piercing on the tip that makes your cunt clench around nothing just imagining what it would feel like. Maybe you should ask Simon to get a piercing just to see.
“Fuckin’ incredible, sir,” Soap chokes out, squeezing his cock tight in his fist. 
Simon chuckles under his breath before his attention turns back to you, a well-practiced rut of his hips sinks the head of his cock into your warm, sticky cunt. Your mouth drops open at the feeling, eyes accidentally locking onto Kyle’s, who is watching you with a dark, focused gaze. 
You find yourself unable to break eye contact as your fiance slowly and carefully stretches you open on his cock until he finally sinks to the hilt, full balls sleeping against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you bite your lip to suppress the absolutely sinful sound that threatens to escape your lips. 
Simon groans at the feeling of being clutched so tightly by your precious cunt. Your hand comes down to circle your clit with desperate, shaky movements until you’re suddenly cumming around his cock.
“Shit!” Simon practically howls, blunt nails biting into your skin as he holds your twitching body against his through the sudden orgasm you’ve given yourself, “Cummin’ just from gettin’ my cock in you? So sweet, lovie.”
You whimper his name in a little hiccup, tearily looking up at him from where your head thumps back against his shoulder. The pathetic look in your eye is what prompts him to start moving – fat cock sliding out of you before a powerful roll of his hips ends it back deep. He prods your cervix in a way that makes pain mix deliciously with pleasure – an addictive feeling that only Simon could ever give you. 
His harsh thrusts jostle your entire body, your tits bouncing in time to the movement. You’re not able to keep quiet, every time he sinks deep, it punches a moan out from your lungs. His heavy, fat balls slap against you, only adding to the lewd sounds of squelching and moaning. 
Soap and Kyle continue to stroke their own cocks to the sight of your getting fucked. Leaking cocks squelching quietly in their own grips. 
“Shit…” Soap groans through his teeth, “Wish I could wrap my lips around that pretty clit, darlin’.”
You whimper, eyes rolling back at the very thought of having a tongue worshiping your neglected clit. With Simon’s cock stuffing you full, you know it would work the most magnificent orgasms out of you. 
As if sensing your greedy thoughts, Simon wraps a rough hand around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, “Felt that little cunt squeeze me when he said that. My cock not enough for you?”
“Y-You are!” you sob, tears filling your eyes from how he starts an even rougher pace, “J-Just wanna cum, Si!”
Your fiance scoffs at your words, harshly knocking your leg off of the chair that you had it propped up in. You cry out at  how the angle changes with his hand still wrapped around your throat, forcing you to arch your back to look up at him. His cock grinds incessantly against that gooey little spot that makes your entire body twitch every time he pounds against it. 
It’s even more difficult to keep yourself upright without the chair to help, both your knees are shaky and if Simon wasn’t holding you tight against his chest by your throat, you’d certainly be slumping to the floor. 
Simon’s hand tightens around your neck and it cuts off the noises that are escaping. Your vision fuzzes up as your orgasm builds and builds. 
“Si, Si, Si–” you choke out, drool dripping down your chin, “Please, I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum!”
“Course I am,” Simon snarls, letting his free hand drop to your clit, harshly slapping the little bud before rubbing soothing circles around it. 
That sends you over the edge, gushing all over him and down your thighs. You squeal, unable to do anything except hang on for the ride as Simon fucks you through your high until he reaches his own end – spilling his load inside you without a second thought. 
You’re left trembling and twitching, gasping and whimpering with tears dripping down your cheeks. Finally, Simon allows you to slump forward, your chest meeting the kitchen table as he pulls his softening cock from your dripping cunt. Sticky, thick strings of his cum connect to his length from your clenching pussy. He soothes his hand down the length of your spine, soothing the little trembles that still wrack your body as you come down. 
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” Soap pants, wiping his cum-covered hand off on his pants.
“You,” Kyle adds, “are one hell of a neighbor.”
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bonefall · 5 months
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Herb Guide: Deaf Warriors and Hearing Disabilities
UPDATE 1: Added more harshness to the lipreading section based on initial feedback; minor rewording of some lines!
A reference for Warrior Cats fans creating characters with hearing loss, blending human advice with cat biology, written for an in-universe perspective on living with and managing such disabilities.
AKA Bonefall casts Spell of Stop Being Weird About Snowkit on all amoebas in 500 mile radius
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[ID: A headshot of three cats, a brown tabby with a shredded ear (Strikestone), a solid white cat with blue eyes (Stonewing), and a gray cat with a mane (Dovewing).]
In the five Clans, hearing loss is both one of the most common sensory disabilities, and one of the most intense to adapt to. Through any mix of simple infections, birth abnormalities, or even just getting older, any given Clan can expect at least 1 in 4 of its cats to have some form of hearing loss.
Hearing loss is any impaired ability to hear, defined as not being able to hear noises under 20 decibels. Deafness is "profound" hearing loss, which means their hearing STARTS at a noise that is 81 decibels (ex: motorcycle, middle-distant clap of thunder) or louder. Most deaf people can still hear slightly, but sound is "muffled" and they can only hear VERY loud noises.
Hearing loss = Any impaired ability to hear. Normal hearing is 20 DB or lower.
Hard of Hearing (HOH) = Mild to severe hearing loss; starts between 21 DB and 95 DB.
Deaf = Profound hearing loss at 95 DB or higher; a clap of thunder is a quiet whisper.
MOST hearing loss will affect one ear more strongly than the other, and the cat will be HOH. The vast majority of cats with a hearing disability will still be able to understand their Clanmates, if they're just spoken to louder and more clearly. Cats who are born deaf (congenital deafness), however, tend to have profound hearing loss which affects their ability to understand speech.
Cats rely on their hearing and sense of smell much more strongly than they do on their eyesight. With hearing that's 4x more sensitive than a human's and can differentiate between 1/10th of a pitch, a Clan's healer would recognize hearing loss as a disability long before humans would even notice a problem.
Since hearing loss starts with the high-pitch noises that prey makes, like squeaks and chirps, hearing loss is a major reason for a senior warrior to begin to consider retirement. However, with proper support and accommodation, ANY warrior could adapt to this disability; Especially cats born deaf and younger HOH warriors with lots of time to re-learn.
This guide covers;
Common Causes
Traits and Challenges of Hearing Loss
Communication: Signs, lipreading, and more
Unique Challenges Clan-by-Clan
Sources are linked in a separate post, here, and linked again at the very bottom!
(note: this guide doesn't cover devices of any kind, but one of many reasons why cochlear implants are controversial is because an implant will destroy that remaining hearing. They aren't hearing aids; hearing aids amplify sound. Aids and implants are two different things)
Common Causes
There are DOZENS of ways to destroy the incredibly sensitive ears of a cat. ANY infection or injury can lead to permanent damage. That can include,
Injury gone sour, from battle, hunting, accidents, etc
Concussion, or a hard enough blow to the ear
Ear Mites, especially if the cat can't stop scratching it
Swimming in cold or dirty river water
Fungal or bacterial infections
Allergies, which can lead to sinus infections. Even an infection in the mouth or throat can spread to the ear!
There doesn't even need to be an infection. Around the ages of 7 - 11, a senior warrior may begin to gradually lose their hearing. Sometimes, through genetic factors or degenerative disease within the ear, an even younger warrior will lose it for "no reason."
It just happens, and it's incredibly common. They will usually begin to notice it when they stop being able to hear and hunt small rodents, because hearing loss will start with high-pitched noises.
Healers can do very little about this, besides attempting to clean any wax out of the ear canal with flax oil and a dab (such as moss, wool, or cloth). There are SO many ways for it to happen and so little in the way of treatments, that it's practically inevitable.
The majority of hearing loss is from infection or disease, but the most predictable way to see deafness in the Clans is in kits born white with blue eyes. In fact, ALL pure white cats are more prone to being born deaf!
Pure white without blue eyes: 17% to 22%
White with a single blue eye: 40% (and usually on the side of the blue eye)
White with two blue eyes: 65% to 85%
In an afflicted kit, the inner ear will rapidly degenerate. They typically lose most of their hearing by their 4th day, and will only be able to faintly hear extremely loud noises.
Of course, there's also various other birth defects that can result in deaf and HOH kits, even if they aren't white with blue eyes. The ear canal and hearing organs can just not form correctly! Any kit could be born with hearing loss, and they can have any type!
If the loss came from injury or severe infection, chronic pain in the inner ear is also common. Nothing can be done about this besides painkillers such as poppy seeds. This condition is rare in born-deaf cats.
Most cats with hearing loss will also permanently hear a repetitive, single-note sound. For most it's a faint, tinny "ring," but others can hear hissing, crackling, or humming in high or low pitch.
At first, this constant noise can be distracting or even debilitating, preventing them from focusing or sleeping, until... you just get used to it.
There is no way to turn the noise off. It can get worse or better, but it's forever. Sleeping and not being stressed out will help, but over time, they typically learn to tune it out. Being reminded of it is usually annoying, just like when someone reminds you about manual breathing.
(We call this condition tinnitus. It is up to you what you would like your cats to call it, the same way they refer to pneumonia as greencough. Tinnitus is a LOT broader than this little snippet, but this is not a guide about tinnitus, this is about hearing loss)
So to summarize that,
There's a billiondy-million ways to damage one's hearing.
Losing your hearing from age or disease usually results in being hard of hearing (HOH) as opposed to deaf, and is likely to affect one ear more than the other.
It starts with high-pitched noises like rodent squeaks.
Cats born white with blue eyes have a massive chance of being born deaf; their inner ear degenerates.
But, any kit could be born with any type of hearing loss, not just deafness.
Most cats with hearing loss will hear a distracting, repetitive noise. They just learn to tune it out.
Traits and Challenges of Hearing Loss
Hearing impaired cats are LOUD.
Even warriors who have mild hearing loss will often end up speaking much louder so they can hear themselves, or not notice the sounds they're making as they shift around in their nests, scuffle sand at the dirtplace, or trample through crunchy leaf litter.
If one of their ears is better than the other, they'll usually try to stand with their "good side" facing any speakers or other sources of noise. They might appear to be constantly standing at an angle, with their head turned towards the sound. It might be so second nature that they don't realize they're doing it.
Plus, a cat with hearing loss in only one ear will lose their hearing's "distance perception," the ability to pinpoint a sound's location. EXACTLY like how losing the sight in one eye causes the loss of "depth perception," they will have difficulty telling how far away a noise actually is.
Warriors who lose their hearing later in life typically have years of experience in knowing how prey behaves and what sorts of actions make noise; but cats born deaf have to be taught this.
Instead, born-deaf cats tend to associate "sound" with "vibration." Echoes, rumbles, and the sensation of their own humming or laughter can feel very pleasurable. Their whiskers are so sensitive that they can even feel drafts of air from someone speaking in front of them! Because of that, cats with impaired hearing do better with low, rumbling "sounds" rather than high-pitched ones; even when they can't hear either. They can feel lower pitched noises.
(NOTE: Decibels are the measurement of volume, and Hertz are the measurement of pitch. These are different things, NOT interchangeable. HIGH pitch and LOW volume are lost first.)
This is why hunting is so difficult when cats begin to lose their hearing. Their sense of smell and sight can be perfectly intact, but a lot of how a cat hunts is in listening for delicate little sounds and balancing them in both ears to figure out prey's exact location. So, when a cat is learning to hunt without their hearing, they have to rely on their other senses and keep their whiskers low, dusting the ground with their chops and front paws, in hopes of their quarry making a vibration they can feel.
IMPORTANT: Don't forget that cats have carpal whiskers! They are short whiskers on the front paws of a cat, used primarily for "grappling" with other cats and struggling prey. They are less sensitive than facial whiskers, but still very useful for a hearing impaired warrior.
"Dusting," keeping the face low, is still more effective than relying entirely on "Sweeping" movements with the paws.
The younger the cat is, the more time they will have to practice and master this. Cats born deaf, who have never relied on hearing before, are usually better hunters than older warriors learning completely new techniques.
But. Clan cats aren't the only danger in the forest.
A warrior who is deaf or hard-of-hearing will not hear danger approaching, and is easy to sneak up on. Even if they keep themselves completely quiet, an intelligent fox or an enemy warrior can launch an unexpected attack on their unsuspecting target. The wilderness is dangerous, and it's not feasible to keep one's whiskers pressed to the ground at all times, even if vibrations did carry far enough to detect such danger before it's too late.
So, it would be recommended for warriors with hearing loss to not wander too far without a hearing Clanmate capable of alerting them to sounds.
They also will have a VERY difficult time acting as part of a "battalion," in large-scale battles.
In fights with dozens of entangled warriors, while they're focused on fighting the cat in front of them, they will have a hard time hearing commands. Even if well-trained in visual cues like tail signs, deaf and HOH warriors might fail to respond to yowled orders like, "RETREAT" or "SECURE THE ENTRANCE."
Even if the warrior isn't fully deaf, battles are loud and chaotic! It's very likely that such orders would get lost in the clamor of hissing and screeching cats, if the cat has any difficulties with hearing at all.
In summary,
Cats with hearing disabilities are loud.
Hearing loss in one ear will cause the loss of distance perception, and they will often stand at an angle with their good ear facing the noise.
If they were born deaf, they have to learn what makes noise.
Highly tactile, they tend to rely on whisker-sense to "replace" their hearing.
Keeping their facial whiskers low to feel for vibration, "dusting," is a very useful technique.
"Sweeping" with the carpal whiskers is also useful, but less so than "dusting."
They are in increased danger from things sneaking up on them, and shouldn't go anywhere unsafe without a buddy.
Following battle commands in large-scale battles will be difficult or nearly impossible, making them bad "team players."
Communication: Signing, lipreading, and more
(psst! @twiigbranch has a free-to-use version of pawspeak if you credit them!)
Since the majority of these cats lost their ability to hear later in life, most warriors with hearing loss will speak "normally." By "normally," that means they will talk the same way they did their whole lives, just louder so they can hear themselves better.
Over many years, they may begin to stop enunciating their words, 'slurring' their sentences, and their pitch may be a little off. Even then, it's rare that a Clanmate would be able to "tell" they have hearing loss just from their cadence.
But, meanwhile, cats who are born deaf will have a very complicated journey with speech.
It's PIVOTAL for the kit's development that the family and the Clan takes an interest in trying to communicate with them. Deaf children often become isolated from communities that don't seem to care about them, the same way any other alienated child would. This can result in trauma, lack of self-confidence, and behavioral issues.
Even if your project doesn't have Pawspeak (or doesn't have it yet!), kittens WILL find ways to communicate with their family and Clan. Sign language can evolve organically from home signs, unique gestures that will rise for a deaf child to speak with their family. BUT, the sooner they're introduced to a true sign language, the better they will be able to communicate.
Sign languages can also die naturally, simply fading away if the next few generations don't keep them alive. It's possible for the Clans to have gone through a few, over the years!
(Note: Sign languages are full languages, not just "physical versions" of a spoken one. American Sign Language and British Sign Language are from totally different families, even further from each other than English and Russian!)
It is also possible for cats born fully deaf, who have never heard words, to learn how to speak verbally... but, this takes a LOT more time and effort than using a sign language.
Teaching a deaf warrior how to say words is not quick, or easy, and is a very physical process. It involves a lot of dedicated practice time back-and-forth, with the apprentice placing their paw on their mentor's throat to feel their voice, and being coached on how to mimic the exact inflections of every word. It can be very repetitive, and very boring.
Even with lots of training, speakers born deaf have a noticeable "accent." They pronounce consonants better than they do vowels (aeiou), and often lack tone and inflection. Each warrior is an individual, and using a speaking voice is a skill some will be better at using than others.
Lipreading is very difficult. Most warriors born deaf will never learn how to do this, or even want to, as it takes an immense amount of time, effort, and tutoring. It will be more common for cats with more moderate hearing loss, especially if they lost their hearing later in life.
These are REQUIRED for a proper lip reading;
Clear view of the face. If the speaker is too far away, moving around, covers their mouth, stands in a dark place, or has their back turned, their lips can't be read. There are many ways that the view of the face could be obstructed.
Slow, clear speaking. If they're talking too quickly and mumbling their words, it will be extremely difficult to catch all of what they said. A better lip reader will be able to read faster.
Mental awareness. A cat who is tired to exhaustion, unable to focus, or not expecting to be spoken to will not be able to process what's being said. Lipreading is an action that takes brainpower.
MOST IMPORTANTLY: A single speaker, not overlapping with others. Lip reading is nearly useless during clanwide arguments. If there's tons of cats talking over each other, shouting out and interrupting, responding to unseen lips in the crowd, or even if an important speaker is just at a bad angle for the deaf warrior's line of sight to catch, they will not be able to catch everything.
Lipreading is also an action that takes focus. If the cat is tired, unable to concentrate, or isn't expecting to have to read lips, they won't be able to process what words the mouth was forming. It works best one-on-one, in clear lighting, looking straight ahead at the speaker... and even then, the BEST lipreader might only catch 40% to 50% of the words said.
So, it's truly reading. Interpretation. It isn't straightforward like language is. From, "I see a herd of deer, all of them are bucks" they might only catch, "...a... deer... of them... bucks." They will have to guess the meaning based on context!
(Look into a mirror. Quickly chant "Red right wrong" three times. Do you see how similar your lips look to form those words when you're not trying to clearly enunciate them? That's what lipreaders deal with.)
So, while there are other options, a sign language is absolutely the best choice if possible in your setting. Especially for cats who were deaf from birth, sign language is the ideal solution.
VERY IMPORTANT TIPS FOR WRITING A HEARING DISABILITY:
Please avoid them speaking with broken grammar, in third person, or with overly simplistic vocabulary, as if they are a toddler or a caveman. If a deaf cat is taught to speak, they will also learn grammar. BAD: "Examplefur go hunt. Me catch mouse good." OK: "I'm going hunting. I'm good at catching mice."
They will not suddenly "forget" how to speak if they lose their hearing, unless they have another condition such as brain injury.
Lip reading is inferior to signing.
They cannot perfectly catch every single word spoken in all conversations via lipreading, especially when the speaker isn't making an effort to include them, or it's during a disorganized group argument.
In ideal conditions, 30% to 40% of the words spoken will be picked up, and the reader will "fill in" the missing vocab with guesswork.
Teaching a deaf cat to speak verbally is a dedicated process, not something they easily "pick up."
Cats born deaf will almost never pick up lipreading, it is more common in milder forms of hearing loss.
Showing hearing clanmates making an effort to include hearing-impaired warriors, like doing translations or just making sure they understood everything, is massively appreciated.
A good culture around hearing loss is the best thing in the entire world for these cats. Support, respect, and acceptance are sincerely the most important factor in how well a hearing impaired warrior adapts with their disability.
So with that in mind, let's also explore the unique challenges in the terrains and culture of each Clan.
Unique Challenges Clan-by-Clan
Because of the nature of this disability, certain Clans are going to be more difficult for a hearing impaired warrior to function independently in, both in terms of environmental hazards and of culture.
Deaf and HOH warriors will not hear the sounds they're making if they step on noisy terrain or accidentally rustle nearby plants. Some enemies also rely more on stealth to attack their targets than others, and some territories will provide more places for prey and predators to hide. Water-related hazards will naturally cause there to be MORE disabled cats in some Clans more than others, which could mean that there will be less stigma and better community.
Environment means a lot to a cat with hearing loss!
RiverClan
Because this Clan is notorious for swimming in the river, they would have a massively higher rate of hearing loss (and scent loss) than other Clans; ESPECIALLY in late autumn and winter. This also means their healers would be MUCH more experienced with treating ear problems in general; but that's a subject for another guide!
(to answer a stray question before I eventually make that guide: RiverClan can make primitive earplugs out of beeswax to protect their hearing, but may need to trade with ThunderClan to acquire that.)
The important thing to note is that compared to other Clans, RiverClan has the highest rate of having HOH warriors. This means that there would be better support systems for hearing loss than in other Clans, and a cultural "bank" of techniques and knowledge to be shared.
They still have the same proportion of kittens born deaf compared to other Clans, but apprentices without hearing in RiverClan would have a bigger pool (heh!) of mentors who have experience with accommodating their disability.
Plus, you don't need to hear fish to catch them. While they'd still have issues hunting water voles and other wetland-loving rodents, fishers aren't at a significant disadvantage when it comes to providing food to the Clan.
Advantages--
High concentration of cats with similar disabilities provides community, and influences the broader culture to be more accommodating
Healers would have lots of experience with the injuries and illnesses that lead to hearing loss, leading to better treatment
Hearing is not necessary for catching fish, and thus has almost no bearing on how skilled a hunter would be.
Mentors would have better techniques for teaching deaf apprentices
Disadvantages--
Will not hear drowning cats. If you drop into that water you're on your own, bucko
Winter will be even harder than usual, when the river freezes over and fishing becomes more difficult.
Overall, RiverClan is THE best Clan for a deaf cat to be part of.
WindClan
With wide open spaces and lots of hills that offer a good vantage point, sight and vigilance is much more important for survival in a moorland than hearing. There's even an advantage to Pawspeak here; you can communicate from across the open moor without screaming out your location to all the prey!
On top of that, moorland has low-laying vegetation. It isn't a grassland, or filled with splashing water, or covered in crunchy leaf litter. There's not a lot of things TO accidentally make noise on, unless the warrior is trying to hide in a gorse or common heather bush, and WindClan is notorious for relying on speed over stealth anyway.
The one drawback to being a deaf moor-runner is that they will not hear baying hounds. Dogs are extremely common in moorland, either as sheep herders or as companions to human hunters shooting grouses. That said, the fact that hounds are the ONLY big predator they'll need to worry about immediately makes WindClan's moor safer than any woodland territory.
Badgers, boars, and foxes hate open spaces like moorland. It's just dogs that are a big concern, and hawks for smaller cats. There are very few "sneaky" predators in this area; most rely on speed.
So being a moor-runner is one of the best jobs that a warrior with hearing loss could have in the Clans... but the minute that they start to have problems listening to any orders, a tunneler should stop working underground immediately.
Deaf apprentices should be excused from their mandatory tunnel training, except to learn how to do evacuation drills.
There is no light underground. Even if they're capable of creating rushlights or are willing to sacrifice glowworms, that light will be dim at best, and could snuff out at any moment. Communication will become impossible with a deaf cat, and even moderate hearing loss will endanger any warrior who gets separated from their team.
If something as drastic as a cave-in or a flooding happens, they will be in extreme danger. They can't be properly warned unless they're pushed by a fellow digger, and they will not be able to notice anything that isn't rumbling. If they DO end up getting trapped under rubble, they will not hear a rescue party calling their name.
It's not just themselves they have to worry about, either. Not being able to warn or coordinate with their excavation team will put ALL of them in danger.
Advantages--
Moorland requires sharper eyes than ears to begin with.
Lack of ambush predators makes this territory particularly safe without hearing.
Quiet terrain makes sneaking less neccesary in the first place
Pawspeak is especially useful across wide distances
Disadvantages--
Hounds are still a massive danger; they could get very close before they're noticed, if they're upwind.
Will not receive a warning cry in case of any hawks or approaching predators.
Tunneling would be profoundly dangerous with a hearing disability; should be heavily discouraged.
Overall rating is that this is the second best Clan for a cat with hearing loss. RiverClan's sense of community still gives them the top seat imo, but if the attitudes of their Clanmates are good, WindClan's moor is an easy territory to adapt to.
ShadowClan
This one is going to depend on what version of ShadowClan the Erins feel like writing that day, or which one you've chosen for your own project. Do they live in a dry pine forest? Or a wetland?
If you're using the idea that ShadowClan lives in a dry pine forest, especially if your project exists in Britain where spruces, firs, and larches are non-native and thus the territory is a timber plantation, refer to the new growth section in ThunderClan below.
I do not abide by that idea, because Aengus the Prize Winning Hog did not emerge from a cranberry bog for me to disrespect him in this way <3 love ur local wetland <3
(quick note: a swamp is a wooded wetland, a marsh is an open wetland, a bog is acidic, and a fen is neutral/alkaline. Wetland is the general term here.)
Wetlands are rich with soggy ground, muck, and microbe-ridden stillwater. Though ShadowClan cats don't swim for fun, they would end up with more ear infections than most Clans through accidentally falling into the swamp. It's likely that they have the second-highest rate of hearing loss in the 5 Clans, but still significantly below RiverClan.
The lush, thick ferns and reeds provide lots of cover to the notoriously stealthy Clan, but to a warrior who can't hear, this terrain is loud and frustrating. The squish of mud under your paws and the rustle of undergrowth is very hard to adapt to if you can't hear it. ShadowClan's prey of birds, frogs, and water-rodents will respond to any accidental noises by fleeing, quickly, making hunting difficult.
Plus, ShadowClan doesn't rely on one, large, deep, stony body of water like RiverClan does, which seems to be sedimentary rock and open marsh all around. Predators are lurking everywhere in wooded swamps, and could sneak up on a warrior who can't hear them. Foxes, badgers, and boars are a danger in this territory.
All that said; ShadowClan still doesn't seem to rely on just rodents. They eat a lot of amphibians and reptiles, which are not hunted by sound. Most of the techniques they use to catch them can just be taught verbatim to a deaf apprentice, or continue to be used the same way by a warrior who has lost their hearing.
Advantages--
Concentration of warriors with hearing loss from falling into dirty water may provide community and support.
Has a good selection of prey that doesn't rely on listening to be hunted effectively.
Disadvantages--
Swamps, wooded wetlands, are dangerous and attract predators.
Lush foliage and soupy ground make moving quietly difficult for a deaf warrior; but not as difficult as leaf litter.
So, this Clan would be firmly middle-of-the-line in terms of its accessibility to a cat with hearing loss. It would depend a lot on how you plan to approach ShadowClan in your own project; such as if you plan to build out more campbound activities, see them as being social or antisocial with their Clanmates, and what kind of territory you choose for them to have.
SkyClan
As of the time of writing this guide in 2023, when the only decent description of SkyClan's new territory is from a single chapter of Squirrelflight's Hope, it's very difficult to figure out what sorts of terrain challenges a warrior with hearing loss would face at the lake.
Hopefully I can come back and update this later!
But it's most likely is that they have a diverse, varied territory, involving the climbing of steep hills and gorges. Even at the "gorge" territory, a lot of hunting would need to take place outside of the rocky parts of the ravine, in the sparse woodlands and countrysides nearby.
For hunting on sparse woodland, see the advice for ThunderClan. Most hunting in British countrysides is going to look very similar to WindClan's open fields, so refer up there for that.
Because of how close they are to humans, both in the Gorge and at the Lake, it's HIGHLY recommended that warriors with hearing loss avoid twolegplaces. ESPECIALLY towns. Between cars, crowds, and grabbing hands, these places are already dangerous (and sensory hell) for warriors with great hearing, but outright lethal for a hearing impaired cat who won't hear these things coming.
So while the majority of the Clan is jack-of-all-trades and regularly mixes up the particular terrain they hunt in, this is going to be harder for hearing impaired warriors. They have to invent brand new, unique techniques for ALL of these different environments, some of them more difficult than others. Because of that, it will naturally be easiest for a deaf warrior to "specialize" in a particular type of terrain.
This could result in some pretty intense feelings of alienation, as their hearing Clanmates regularly mix what sorts of places they tackle. Without even intending to, they could end up making the warrior feel very left out!
In terms of the culture though, SkyClan seems notoriously accommodating. Between the part-time-kittypet daylight warriors and the way they invented an entirely new mediator role for a cat who didn't enjoy hunting and fighting, it would likely be one of the BEST Clans in terms of supporting a hearing impaired warrior, even in spite of having a "standard" rate of hearing loss since their territory is not particularly wet.
So, it's very likely that they would WANT to fix the fact they've accidentally made their Clanmate excluded, and seek solutions that work for everyone. If any Clan besides RiverClan had a Pawspeak interpreter translating Leafstar's words, it would probably be these guys lmao
Advantages--
Varied terrain means there will be at least a few places that aren't too hard for them to adapt to
Sparse woods, open fields, and even gorges, the three most common terrain types, are at worst decent for a deaf cat to hunt in.
VERY accommodating culture, the absolute best outside of the Clans with a high hearing loss percentage.
Disadvantages--
Generalist training, where every warrior handles vastly different terrain types, will exponentially increase how much training a hearing-impaired warrior must learn.
Being unable to join with their Clanmates in hunting across the entire territory could feel isolating
Rating: Close to top tier, but variable. It's going to depend somewhat on the personality of the warrior. While SkyClan will likely make a big effort to include them, the reality of needing to learn several sets of parallel skills and the way they might feel like an "outsider" for specializing could cause extra distress. Especially for a warrior losing their hearing later in life.
ThunderClan
Because of their collaborative culture and hunting style, described as snobbish and bossy by other Clans, it's very likely that ThunderClan would struggle the most with a specific type of ableism. Since they value group cohesion, it follows they may force Assimilation onto a disabled warrior rather than Accommodation.
As mentioned earlier, Pawspeak is the best thing for the comfort of a deaf warrior... but it might not occur to this Clan to encourage the majority of the Clan to adapt to a minority of warriors.
But it gets worse. Forests are AWFUL terrain to hunt in if you can't hear. Imagine walking in a field with a bunch of invisible landmines, and if you step on one, it broadcasts your EXACT location.
It's difficult to tell if your mouse is running away because you crunched a leaf and made a sound... or because a bird in a tree SAW you and is now raising up an alarm cry. If you can't actually hear what the noise was that scared your lunch away, you might blame yourself for being clumsy as a fox barrels towards you!
When it comes to forests, there are significant differences between an old growth forest and a new growth forest. BOTH of them are going to be extremely difficult for a disabled warrior to adapt to, but old growth is harder.
OLD GROWTH
In both, ground litter is a challenge, but especially so in an old growth British forest. Natural forests there are primarily mixed oak, which drop twigs, leaves, and acorns all over the ground.
These areas are bountiful, productive, and brimming with life. Both in terms of prey and predators. The varied canopy of natural, mixed-age trees allows sunlight to filter through and create an "understorey," providing lots of food and cover to lots of different animals. Unfortunately, foliage is not a deaf warrior's friend.
As previously mentioned, a mix of areas for animals to hide in and a surrounding of rattling plant life is the worst possible combination for a cat who can't hear. Worse, hunting rodents depends massively on hearing them through the leaf litter, thanks to those high-pitched chirps and squeaks which are the first thing to vanish when a cat loses their hearing.
This would be so bad that it's likely ThunderClan "works" its youngest members much harder than its seniors, assigning apprentices and young warriors to significantly more hunting patrols. Since hearing loss is so common that it's practically inevitable, and the security of a Clan allows these wild cats to live to such old ages, it would be "common sense" to ThunderClan to structure things this way.
Old growth patches are practically food pantries for Clan cats, but hearing impaired warriors will have a HELLISH time trying to hunt in them.
NEW GROWTH
When a forest is new and all of the trees in a stand are about the same age, they create a uniform canopy. Like a continuous tent. This means they're so effective at blocking out sunlight that there's virtually no understorey.
No understorey means no food. Or very little food. But it also means no cover. And, usually, significantly less leaf litter. This is because in Britain, most of these types of forests are non-native conifers. Sitka spruce and douglas fir are the two biggest offenders-- and that's significant because nothing here has evolved to EAT the products of those trees.
In ThunderClan, Tallpines is an example of this, but this type of terrain could pop up anywhere that's seen massive destruction.
No understorey to feed prey, no products of the trees which native animals can eat, a silent floor covered in pine needles which offer no hiding places, almost chilling uniformity of the strange trees in evenly-spaced rows...
All of this to say that there's an irony here, that the hearing impaired warrior will be best at hunting in the most barren parts of the forest.
There's much less things to trip up on, or rustle. Prey can be plainly seen out in the open. Gray squirrels are the most significant prey that can utilize these areas, and they DO make a hearty meal for a Clan cat. Additionally, these areas are particularly silent because they're so barren, which might make them seem "creepy" to hearing warriors, but that wouldn't bother a deaf warrior one bit!
Advantages--
Cultural sentiment of "all for one; one for all" may lead to more dedication from the Clan as a whole in connecting to the hearing impaired cat
Which could be a blessing or a curse, depending on the individual warrior's feelings.
Ability to work efficiently in the most barren parts of the forest
Disadvantages--
Cultural emphasis on collaboration in group hunting likely leads to deaf cats being encouraged to adapt to the patrol rather than their own strengths.
May result in more emphasis on teaching lip reading and 'speech therapy,' rather than the adoption or implementation of Pawspeak.
Very difficult to stay quiet in a forest if you can't hear the crunch of leaf litter and twigs.
Lots of cover means random bullshit can spring out from any corner; abundance of ambush predators.
Cover also means there's a lot of places for prey to hide, and hearing can't be used to pinpoint the location.
Lots of rodent prey, which relies on hearing high-pitched noise to catch.
Rating: F MINUS, SEE ME AFTER CLASS. By FAR the worst Clan for a warrior with hearing loss to be part of, for both practical reasons, AND cultural reasons. Awful awful awful, absolutely abysmal, failing grade. Dark Souls for deaf cats
Though remember! This part of the guide is a suggestion. You do not need to include ableism in your own projects if you do not want to, and I hope with the information that you now have, you know how to better avoid it!
"Sources?"
Right this way~
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bunnys-kisses · 30 days
Text
black ink & pink french tips
captain john price
cw: retired!price, tattooed!price, smut/pwp, sub!reader, dom!price, bimbo!reader, age difference (20s & 40s), power play, daddy kink, baby trapping
bunny says: happy 3,000 followers to me (and right before my exam)!
price remembered his retirement party. he remembered the pat on the back he got from higher ups for his service. he was supposed to be proud, but now in his mid-forties, what legacy did he have to show for it? his name was more often than not redacted, he entire career was in the shadows.
no wife, no kids, not even a fixed address.
so life outside of the military became aimless. that was until he found you. while most would frown at a twenty year ago gap, but you were an adult who could make her own choices. price felt protective over you, he needed to keep you safe.
you were an adult, but you had a lot to learn. and what started out as companionship quickly turned into mind-blowing sex. price could man handle you like no other man could dream of.
"men my age are simply too nice." you sighed as you examined your nails. you looked at him, "pussies."
he simply chuckled and went over to him, shirtless with a cigarette in his mouth. his walk was almost seductive as he got closer. he looked down at you and cupped your face, “well, love. daddy will take care of ya. ”
did he rile up your daddy kink? yes. did he often use it as an excuse to tease you? yes. did you almost rip his hair out when he asked you about your relationship with your father in the middle of sex? yes. 
price loved you on your knees, in his bed, over the couch, he loved on your side, back and stomach. he loved how his cock just sank into the sweetness of your cunt. it riled him up when he felt his tip poke at your womb. you were just perfect, he couldn't imagine himself with any other woman. you were his princess. 
he was laid out beside you on his side while you were on your stomach trembling on the bed. there was a bullet vibrator inside of you and he had turned the setting on to high. he heard your small squeaks and watched you squirm as he palmed your ass. he grabbed your ass roughly as he watched you come apart. 
tonight he was determined to get you as lust-drunk as he could get you. he had plans for you tonight. 
the night prior he had proposed to you, and you rejected him. you told him that you didn't want to get married! was he crazy? so he had to go an unconventional route to keep you firmly by his side. it meant going from lacey bralettes to cute nursing bras in a years time. you could still be your hyper pink self while pushing a stroller, right? 
at the time he shrugged it off, but his ability to plan started to form in his brain. so now he had you laid out as he touched you. his broad, strong hand groped your sweet ass. he watch it jiggle when he gave the cheeks a few smacks. he leaned into your ear, his facial hair touched your flushed skin, “how does it feel, baby girl?” 
you whimpered, “why did you turn it on so high?”
he chuckled, “because when i'm too gentle you turn into a brat.” he slapped your ass and leaned in closer. he kissed your cheek softly, “you kick your legs and whine until you get what you want.”
you whined, “i'm not always a brat.” you buried your face deeper into the pillow. you could feel price's scent cloud your head as he made you feel good. 
price reached down between your legs and started to rock the vibrator in and out of your pussy. you kicked out yours legs and he closed the gap between you, his other forearm across your lower back, “stay still, love.” his voice was low. 
his tattooed fingers lingered around your hole, his thumb even touched your clit which made you feel like you were on a live wire! but price kept you pinned down. he loved watching your little movements, everything about you was so delicate. with your glossed lips and the clips in your hair, the way you pouted at him earlier. 
he licked his lips and slid his fingers into your tight hole up against the vibrator. you moaned and arched your back. the pleasure raced through your body as he pleasured you. he knew you were getting more wound up the more he touched you. his naked little angel, all soft and vulnerable for him. 
you didn't know much, when he asked you hard questions you got confused. but your confusion was just the sweetest thing he had ever seen. now he was going to have you as his wife. you'd make a beautiful mother. the thought made his cock twitch, it was already at full attention. ready to fuck the living daylights out of you. 
you clawed at the mattress under you and arched your back. your noises was music to his ears. you made a deep noise when he pulled the vibrator out of your pussy. you went limp onto the bed, your head felt like a haze as you felt him roll you onto your back, your pussy glistened in the heated bedroom.
  “aren't you such a treat. dirty girl who wants to be fucked by her daddy.” he got between your legs, he rested his weight against you, pinning you to the bed. your hands found his shoulders as he hoisted your hips against his. his hard cock pressed against your entrance, “silly little things like you need to be kept safe. that's why your home is in the arms of an older man.” he pressed his forehead against yours, he felt the sweat against his skin. 
you moaned, “price, please.” 
he grabbed you by the face and moved back to he could stare at you. the look in his eyes was clouded by lust, but stern. stern in a way that showed that he was hardened by war.  he said, “price?”
you pouted “daddy…”
  “i should punish you for that. make ya wash your mouth out with soap for that.” he smirked at you, “or maybe ten minutes in the corner? or maybe i should make sure you don't get to orgasm?” 
you whined, “please, daddy! i'm sorry! my head feels all heavy.” you were running on the high of pleasure. you were barely thinking. 
  “it's alright.” he purred, “I can forgive ya tonight. you're always so good for me.” he said as he let go of your chin and kept you pinned to the bed by his broad chest. you could feel his chest hair tickle against your chest. it felt nice against your nipples. he took you by the legs and pushed his cock into you slowly. 
you were so relaxed and soaked that he slipped in with ease. he bottomed out into you and you jolted it. you clawed at his back, nit enough to draw blood but rough enough that it left the skin irritated. price had a few tattoos since he retired, the ink skin contrasted nicely with the prettiness of you nails. 
black ink and pink french-tips. 
he rubbed up against you as he thrusted into you. he loved the warmness of your sex, he could feel your heartbeat against his skin as he moved you up and down on his cock. he exhaled deeply, “that's it, baby girl. daddy loves that cunt of yours.” 
  “please, daddy.” you whimpered as you held onto him tightly. 
  “you feel amazing.” he groaned, “it was like you were made for me.  mind, body and soul. all mine.” 
you tighten your legs around his waist. you moaned into his shoulder, you almost bit into the meat of it as you felt him. every thrust felt like a nudge against the end of you sex. like he was in your stomach. 
  “so good for me. you felt so perfect around me. my baby girl.” he rocked his hips quickly. he slammed his cock deep into you. he held onto you as tight as he could, he knew it was going to bruising. 
  "please"." you whimpered, "it feels so good!'
  "that's what i like to hear.' he fucked you hard, your pussy clenched around his cock. your noises encouraged him as he moved against you. he sloppily made out with you as his pace started to stagger. pleasure clouded both of your mind. his stomach did flips at the idea of getting you pregnant. trapping you with his baby. 
he held onto you tightly, tattooed hand in your hair as he fucked you with vigor. with a few hard thrusts later, you both climaxed at the same time. you kicked out your legs pathetically as you clenched around his cock. you went limp after as you tried to catch your breath. your head was too fuzzy to notice that price was finishing off inside of you. 
spurts of cum hit against the back of your cervix and you felt like you were going to melt into the bed. but price continued to thrust into you even as he grew softer. he loved the feeling of your gummy, soft cunt around his length. it felt like home.
he whispered as he pulled out eventually, he laid out beside you and teased your cunt, “good girl.” he purred, “my good girl.” 
your were unaware of most things. you didn't even notice that price had eagerly seeded you. and his mission was a success <3
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months
Note
OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT.
Grandma cat!reader. Who was a old women who got experimented on and turned into a smiling critter but like the caretaker of the smiling critters.
Often seen walking around with a scruffed smiling critter hanging from her mouth(somehow-) and overfeeding the smiling critters or children.
How would a saved dogday and (maybe) good catnap react to the player bringing them to readers containment room. (She was locked in before the Hour of Joy due to something and just stayed there)?
I just want to see them get some sort of parental love 🥹😖
- Marshmellow🤍
I swear ya'll are gonna make me cry with these requests /nm <3
.....
Dogday
In your old age, you didn't wanna retire from Playtime Co. and spend the remainder of your life laying around, waiting for your body and mind to deteriorate.
So instead you became one of the few willing volunteers for the Bigger Bodies Initiative, being turned into a Smiling Critter (which made you especially happy since your grandkids adored the toyline and cartoon show).
In the show, the gang mentioned a grandma character several times (albeit she was unseen) and with Catnap being recalled from all promo materials, Playtime Co. took creative liberties and made you the newest feline replacement, fitted with a cinnamon scent and pie necklace.
Your tagline was something like "The Smiling Critters take care of our orphans, but who takes care of them? Why, their Grandma [Y/n], of course! She's full of love and wisdom!"
True to that, you became the caretaker of the Critters and children, ensuring everyone's fed well and staying out of trouble.
The incident with Bron (Thomas/Experiment 1199) had scientists rethinking how they'd introduce willing experiments to those...well..less-than-willing.
So you had a supervised introduction to the SCs (with children also present to discourage them from reacting violently). You were even given a containment cell you could retreat to in case of emergencies.
Luckily, you never had to use that room--as they accepted you and began calling you "grandma" since day one.
Dogday, especially, got attached to you.
You called him "DD" and "Doggy-Dearie".
Being a bit taller than the rest of them allows you to pick them up by the scuff of their necks if they're being too rowdy (Kickin and Hoppy, especially).
Even so, you're very sweet to all of them, letting them snuggle up to you as you shared stories and made them food so they could keep up with the little ones.
All was well in the Playhouse up until the Hour of Joy of course.
But you were unaware of it since Catnap sabotaged your room's lock, keeping you trapped to lower the Smiling Critters' morale.
Dogday was 100% convinced you were dead.
However you survived long enough for the Employee's arrival years later, never knowing what happened to the factory..
After rescuing Dogday, they find your door and powered it up, allowing the two entry into the perfectly intact space within.
Your fur was matted and you looked sickly, but you still jump up upon seeing the state your dear "grandson" was in.
It devastated you.
"My word..Dog-Dearie.." Your heart shatters. "Your legs..where are they? Where is everyone?"
Something inside of him ultimately breaks as he realizes you were alive...and you were here all along.
"G-Grandma...! Oh...god..I-I thought you were--" He crawls away from the Employee and towards you, sobbing into your lap. "You were h-here..this whole time! I-I wanted to see you, but..C-Catnap..he.."
"Shh, shhh..I'm here now, my sweet pup. It's alright." You hush, stroking his ears and resting a paw on his back, before looking to the Employee. "You must be terribly confused..as am I.."
After explaining your role--and calming Dogday down--the two tell you about what's happened to the factory, and at first you can't believe it...
Until you all wander through the Playhouse and see the horrid state it's in, but they're confused as to why none of the mini Critters attack you.
Only then do you mention feeding them over the years through little vents and holes in the walls, keeping their hunger moderately satiated.
Dogday feels awful, and even more upset at Catnap for lying about your fate.
But still, you don't show any ill-will towards any of the Smiling Critters, even if one of them had betrayed you all.
Instead you just let Dogday cling to you as you escape together and try your best to keep up.
Catnap
Like the rest of the Smiling Critters, Catnap considered you family and often went to you for snacks and such.
Or if he needs a break from trying to put all the rowdy orphans to bed in Home Sweet Home. Only then is he given permission to see you.
He always liked curling up in your lap, purring while you stroke his fur and tell him a story (which is sometimes an event from your old human life, albeit you do accidentally confuse yourself since ofc you're not supposed to remember any details of your old life).
The Prototype sees this as a problem, as Theodore Catnap was getting a bit too comfortable with his life here and needed a reminder of his mission....and so he tells him the truth.
About how you not only worked at the factory until you reached retirement age...but you were also a willing participant in the experiments.
And suddenly, he couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Only with resentment.
It wasn't fair.
You got to lead a long and fulfilling life. Theodore barely got the chance to grow up and be a normal kid.
You had the procedure and associated risks explained to you clear as day. Theodore never had the luxury of being warned ahead of time before he was grabbed and put under the knife after recovering from the incident with the green grabpack hand.
All he wanted was to free the others, but he ended up becoming their warden instead.
He almost forgot all of that because of you.
He refuses your food now, and you worry for him when you see how skinny he becomes as the months pass.
But he's very cryptic in the way he talks to you, the other SCs, and the staff...so you didn't know for sure what you did to upset him so much.
"Catnap, dearie..you're skin and bones. Let me-"
"I know what you were, and what you've become...the Prototype told me so."
You don't know what to say. What could you say when he kept talking about this "Prototype" person?
Despite his hatred, the SCs were conditioned to love you regardless, and so before the Hour of Joy Catnap decided to sabotage the locks of your containment room.
That way, he wouldn't be tempted to kill you...and he'd spare you from the grief of what he ends up doing to the other SCs, including Dogday.
Years later, when the Employee finally knocks some sense into him after saving him from being sacrificed to the Prototype, he takes them to your room, believing you to be dead from starvation.
Instead, though, they break you out and he discovers you're very much alive.
And Catnap just breaks down, groveling and begging for your forgiveness.
You were the one who always tried to reach out and comfort him, giving him some relief from the misery of being trapped in this factory....and he pushed you away.
But you don't hate him for locking you up, realizing that he still cared about you after all this time. Even when the Prototype told him about your past.
He wanted to keep you safe.
That alone proves he had a heart, and you reassure him of that as he cuddles up to you for a little while.
Once he's calmer, you go with him, Dogday (assuming he was saved), and the Employee to meet with Poppy and Kissy--both of whom are relieved to see you alive
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sleepyconfusedpotato · 11 months
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⚔️ MWII (2022) Character Ages (as of 2022) ⚔️
I was on a character age brainrot back in January and now It's back because of @angelsarewatching so I'm gonna go ahead and post this on Tumblr. Tell me what you think tho and discussions are open!
🐑 Gen. Shepherd - Around late 50s, Pushing 64. I searched it up and apparently, the mandatory retirement age for all general officers is 62, in some cases 64. But if he got into the recommendation list after Brigadier General (O-7), it's allowed to be more than 62. He's a Lt. Gen, so that's O-9. Also, Glenn Morshower (Shepherd's actor) is 64 so let's go with that.
🧠 Laswell - 47-ish. At MOST 55. (Rya Khilstedt is 52. AMAZING BEAUTIFUL SHOW -STOPPING)
🚁 Nikolai - 45 as well. I would go with 48 though.
🪦 Graves - 40. He gives Texan cowboy energy. I just know he's an old dude and is actually older than the rest of the gang.
🛖 Alejandro and 🦂 Valeria - 37. Maybe 38. I don't know at what age someone could make the rank Colonel 'cause that's quite high up the ladder. (They might as well be older than Price. Shit, they might be 40.)
🚬 Price - 37 (Canon) c. 1985.
🐎Rudy - 36. He's been close with Alejandro for 20 years now. Assuming they're bestest of friends and knew each other even before military, Rudy would be around 36/37 as well.
💀 Ghost - 35 or lower. As far as I know, lieutenants are usually young, unless he enlists first before a few years later he went to the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst (RMAS). OR. His preference and efficiency of working alone are far better for use on the battlefield. The higher you are in the ranks, the more soldiers you are responsible for. So the higher-ups might purposefully don't promote him (and he prefers and agrees to it as well) so that he can continue working alone rather than leading a squad. He surely can lead a team, but he's better at doing shit alone. Crazy theory but hey, it's fiction.
🦿Alex - 35 (Alex was a Delta Force until 2013. Assuming he's around 26 when he finally goes to the CIA, that means he's around 32yo in 2019 and 35yo in 2022)'
🔭 Hadir - 33/34 (Canon) 1989/1990. I’m choosing 34 tho since in the ‘Hometown’ mission he was almost a teenager.
☀️ Farah - 30 (Canon) January 12th 1990.
🧢 Gaz - 26 (Canon). The bio says he enlisted in the British Army in 2014. Assuming Gaz finished high school first, he must’ve enlisted when he was 18yo. That means he was 23yo in MW19 and 26yo in MW22. 
🧼 Soap - 26 (Canon). He’s canonically the youngest one in Task Force 141. The bio mentioned that his cousin is in SAS and he often time visits the base. Setting aside the fact that the cousin brought a fucking kid to a top-secret base, lil’ Johnny must’ve been like “I DON’T WANNA GO TO SCHOOL I WANT TO BE AN SAS SOLDIER” and he canonically LIED about his age. Apparently, he went in when he was 16 but got caught several times, until finally when he was 18 he got in. 
--
That's it folks! Tell me what you think (。・∀・)ノ゙
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Mafia konig and his sweet innocent assistant
OMG!! MAFIA KONIG!! My mom was obsessed with TV show about ex-spec ops soldiers starting a criminal ring as a friend group because they didn't have any opportunities after being discharged from the military and...well, let me introduce you to this: Mafia!Konig as a discharged colonel Konig, was let go from the military with(thankfully) enough connections and retirement funds that his little hobby of smuggling guns from poorer Eastern European countries into Austria and Germany(both having horribly strict gun laws) for the less fortunate criminal rings. He gets them guns and drugs -- much lower prices too, thank god for his Prague connections and cheap labor -- and they get him money and power. Mafia!Konig who isn't your typical suit-wearing nice and clean-cut mob boss. He still wears his uniform - not because he wants to taint the suit, but because of his connections as the guy on the inside in the special forces - he was booted out of the army because of his age and traumas, even though he refused until his last day at the forces. He won't ever let anyone tear that form away from him - you just know he fucks you in his office in full gear, bouncing you on his cock as you're forced to beg your colonel to let you cum. Wearing his dog tags as the sign of ownership - as you're nothing but his obedient pet. Mafia!Konig has a solid reputation. A center that helps veterans overcome their traumas and find new purpose in life after exiting special forces - and you're his pretty assistant, just an innocent thing that runs around and does all of his paperwork because Colonel hates doing it! And you want to keep your job, you want to be useful, you're a good girl that doesn't question the suspicious numbers and shady people that attend some of his other totally legal businesses. You know better than to accuse people who served your country of being a dishonest bunch of thugs. Mafia!Konig who knows this is bad for you - innocent thing, you shouldn't ever be wrapped in his schemes, he only hired you because he wanted someone nice, someone kind to hang on to. He is doing terrible things every day, not shading from murders, assassinations and contraband smuggling - but he can come to you and place his head on your chest, just laying here for a few minutes as you stroke his head and relieve all of his anxieties.
Mafia!Konig who eventually convinces you to be his girlfriend. His trophy wife even, eventually - he wants to take care of you, to free you from having a job and worry about money...he has all means to make your life in Vienna as sweet as possible, cute thing, and he even hired move assistants for his more illegal doings just so your only job would be bringing him coffee and sucking him off under a table after the closes a very important weapons deal, forcing his thick cock in your willing throat as he promises to take you to the mountains on Christmas.
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songofsunset · 2 years
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Wait what does elder in the LDS church mean? What do people think it means? I am so ignorant of it all but I feel like it's important to know since they're so influential in certain places
I think the line I was referring to was "He’d also been an elder in the LDS church but was excommunicated"
To someone unfamiliar, "He'd also been an elder" might sound like he was 'high ranking', but it really just means he spent two years of his life away from home preaching the gospel that would never love him back.
Elder is the honorific you use for a boy who is serving a mission! These are generally teenage boys (18 and 19 and 20ish. The mission lasts for two years and is pretty damn culturally mandatory for boys) So it's a term of respect, but also doesn't imply age or wisdom. Like, for serious, I was taught to look up to the missionaries my whole childhood, but from this end of time I'm like 'oh god they're babies why are we sending them out to represent us they've never even done their own laundry' whoops
Everyday members refer to each other as Brother and Sister Lastname. Men get called by different titles based on the roles they're serving, like Elder for missionaries, Bishop for Bishops, and President for a variety of things from the president of the local group of congregations (a stake) to the actual Prophet and First Presidency of the church.
Women never really get any titles other than Sister, even the ones who are active missionaries. Something something sexism something something a woman's highest honor isn't priesthood it's MOTHERHOOD (unless you're gay in which case you don't need a family it's fine suck it up......)
The role and title associated with age and wisdom that Elder might seem to imply- to someone doesn't know it generally applies to teenagers- is Patriarch.
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tojiphile · 9 months
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you don't need other boys when you have him, your daddy’s best friend. he’s everything you’d ever need and more, better than all the boys—he’s a man. a good man. these are the words he croons into your ear every time he sneaks into your room late at night, slipping an arm around your waist and his cock in your eagerly waiting cunt.
it all started when you had a fight with your dad. even though your dad was hosting his own birthday party, you sulked all night. your dad didn’t try to hide his own snide comments, so why should you? you didn’t greet guests nor help out, instead choosing to use your phone, drink as much booze as you could and retire to your bedroom early.
as you lay in bed, you could still hear the reverberations of music and the boisterous laugh of middle aged men and women alike. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow, trying to drown out the noise. so when he knocked on your door, opened it when you didn’t answer, and walked in, you jumped when the weight shifted on your bed as he sat down.
“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says kindly, lending you a smile, “you just seemed… off, today. i wanted to check in on you.”
you sit up. this man was your dad’s best friend of years. not having any kids of his own, he spoilt you rotten. he bought you all the toys and pretty dresses that your dad refused to, arguing that they were too expensive before throwing money at gambling or whatever new woman walked into his life. as you grew up, you couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for him. when you sat still and pretty during dinners and parties, nodding along like a good girl your father demanded you be, your eyes always fell on him. his charming disposition, the way he chided your father like no one else could, and the way he’d always put food on your plate first, giving you a wink as you said thank you wordlessly.
of course, when your friends would talk about dilfs, your mind would never go to your father, the deadbeat dad who provided nothing for you. instead, you would always think about him. his salt and pepper hair that he ran his calloused hands through, smile lines set on his face more defined than any wrinkles, his toned body that you would dream about, touch yourself to every night. you were suddenly conscious that you weren’t wearing a bra. nor shorts.
“i’m fine.” you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. maybe it was the six pack of beer or the cask strength whiskey, but your head was pounding, and your heart was racing. he put a large hand on your thigh. your blanket hid your bare skin from his, but his gentle touch already sent heat pooling in your lower body.
“i’m sorry about your dad,” he says, “he’s an idiot.” he rubs your thigh reassuringly, perhaps innocently unaware of what he’s doing to you, “he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. much less his perfect daughter.”
you flush. was he really saying this? he continues, “i’ve tried to tell him so many times, y’know? how amazing you are, so filial, better than so many other daughters this day and age. he keeps blaming it on your mum leaving but god, that shouldn’t be a fucking excuse.”
he’s working himself up, you can tell as his brow furrows, his arms tense. it feels good to be validated, especially when your father was so unmoving. you place a hand on his toned arm, “i’m fine, but thanks.”
“but you shouldn’t be fine!” he stands up, pacing. you internally bemoan the loss of contact, “if i was your dad, i’d never treat you this way,” he sits back down softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, “if you were mine, i’d take care of you.”
his flushed face is inches from yours, you can smell the whiskey on his breath and see the heat in his gaze, almost blazing. he cups your face gently, eyes studying your face before falling back to your eyes, “you’re perfect, so beautiful.” you hold his gaze, you don’t know where this is going but you don’t want this moment to end.
the moment ends when you both hear your father yell and a beer bottle break. he must have lost in a game of poker. before you can react, your father’s best friend shoots up, “i’m sorry,” he trudges towards your bedroom door, “i shouldn’t have come up.”
his hand is already on your door handle and your mouth acts before your brain can stop it, “no.” he turns to look at you.
your pull the blanket off, revealing your bare legs, nipples perky against your thin shirt, “stay.”
his breath hitches, and you can see his pants tightening. he can’t peel his eyes away from you but he manages to mutter, “it’s wrong.”
you turn your body to his, spreading your legs and placing your feet on the bed, exposing your core to him.
“please.”
whatever self control he had left seems to have evaporated at the pleading sound of your voice as he clicks your door lock into place and races over to your bed, forcing you to lie flat as he climbs on top of you, slotting himself between your spread legs, trapping you under him.
“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to press featherlight kisses on your neck, “so beautiful.” you gasp as a hand grips your waist, running down the side of your figure.
“but this is wrong…” he tries to pull away but you stop him. “i don’t care.” you yank him by the front of his shirt, pulling all his weight on top of you as you press your lips together, running your hands down his broad back. he takes a second to react but follows your lead, he nips at your bottom lip and as you moan, he slips his tongue into your mouth.
he breaks away from the kiss, sitting up to pull off his shirt, revealing his defined abs. you let yourself feel him, reveling in the feeling. he leans back down, gaze never leaving yours but just as your lips are are about to meet, he stops. you can’t help but whine, though the sound is replaced by a gasp as a calloused hand cups you through your panties.
“you’re already soaked,” he laughs, “good girl.”
embarrassed but so unbelievably desperate, you let out a sigh, “only for you, daddy.”
he scoffs, “i know.” he pulls your panties aside, revealing your puffy pussy, “this isn’t the first time i’ve come up to your room.” he spreads you with his fingers, and you shut your eyes in anticipation, “i tried to find you last week to say goodbye but your walls are really thin. i heard you call out my name.”
the last time he was over, he must have come from the gym as his damp hair along with the tightest compression shirt you’d ever seen was enough for you to squeak out a tiny “excuse me”, before running to your room before you creamed yourself right there at the dinner table.
he slips two fingers into your greedy cunt, snapping you back to reality. he moves slowly, but his long, slender digits worked their magic, loosening you up while hitting at that spongy spot inside you. his thumb finds your clit and moves in small circles, causing your brain to short circuit. he hadn’t done much but the pleasure is insurmountable, the whole situation overwhelms you, and you find your core tightening, close. “cum for me,” he kisses down your neck, sucking near your collarbone. at his okay, you chase your release, writhing under him as his fingers continue working.
“so good for daddy,” he kisses you as you pant softly.
he slips his fingers out of your cunt and display them to you, slick and dripping. “messy girl.” you squirm as he spreads his fingers, showing off your viscous juices. he maintains eye contact with you as he takes his own digits in his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting you.
"sweet, just like you." he proclaims, booping your nose with the same finger that was just in his mouth seconds earlier. “can you take more?”
you nod. he grins, pressing a chaste kiss onto your lips. he sits up, one hand caressing your face and the other unbuckling his belt. he pulls it off in a swift motion, but before he can begin unbuttoning his pants, you move your hand to do so. "allow me," you smile up at him, puppy eyes glinting.
"someone's excited." he laughs, moving his hand to allow you to work on his buttons. his other hand, still on your face, makes its way down slowly, before his grip finally rests on your neck.
you unbutton his jeans and are faced with his grey underwear, straining from his bulge. “keep going,” he nudges you with his free hand. you pull at his waistband, allowing his cock to spring free. it’s thick, veiny, and big, bigger than any of the other boys’ you’d ever been with. tentatively, you wrap a hand around his length, causing him to hiss softly. your thumb doesn’t meet your fingers, so as you start pumping him slowly, up and down, you have to use two hands to grip him tight.
“god, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, gazing at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever crossed his sight. when you meet his eyes you can’t help but look away. still, you manage a whisper, “i- i want you.”
“say that again?” he asks, distracted by your hands working to unravel him. you flush.
“i want you…” you meet his eyes, “…in me.”
he barks out a laugh, spurred on by your boldness, “anything for you.”
he moves to stand up, shrugging off his bottoms. he moves to your bedside table and rummages around, looking for something. “any condoms?”
you shake your head. “i must have ran out. are you clean?”
he laughs. “considering you’re the first person i’ve fucked in a few years, i’d hope so.”
“good,” you hide a cheeky smile, before giving him your best puppy dog eyes, “because i really, really want daddy to give me his babies.”
with a raise of an eyebrow, he accepts the challenge. he always loves you best when you’re confident. makes him want to ruin you. he climbs back over you, spreading your thighs apart and aligning the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt.
he looks at you for your approval, and at your nod, he pushes his tip in. you gasp at the stretch, his thick cock opening you up like a present. you wanted him, no, needed him to fill you up, to make you feel so, so full.
you rut into him and he gets the hint, pushing himself deeper into you. it starts to feel painful, and you clench around him, trying to seek some relief. your fluttering walls make him feel so good, too good. he could feel himself coming close. “don’t do that!” he warns, but it comes out more as a moan.
you disobey, of course, and squeeze tighter. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him in deeper, causing you both to breathe in a sharp intakes of breath. any pain had evaporated into the pooling warmth in your stomach.
both of you stay in that position for a while, eyes locked. “fuck it,” he growls under his breath, grabbing onto your waist and pulling your body away from his, before snapping it back. he’s thrusting in, and pulling you off, all while his curved cock continues to hit that sweet, sweet spot that makes you see stars. you almost fall limp, but wanting to prove yourself, you start fucking yourself on his cock, lifting your hips and trying to move yourself to ease his load.
“such a good, a good girl. my good girl. my girl. my girl. mine.” he chants it like a mantra, each syllable a beat he moved along to as he fucked you silly. “who owns you?”
“you, daddy!”
he places a hand on your bare stomach and squeezes. following the curve of your body, he finds your breast. he takes your whole boob in his big hand, squeezing it so tightly it hurt. he moves to play with your nipples, rolling it around between calloused fingers, pebbling it. you moan and arch your back, allowing him to sink deeper into you.
“what a good girl you are, huh? fucking yourself on his cock. my pretty, pliant girl. ‘m gonna fill you up with my babies. wanna see your cute little stomach swell.” he lifts one of your legs, tucking it over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper than you thought he could. you’re squirming, trying to keep up with his relentless pounding but god it’s too much. his hand wanders your body, gripping at your tender flesh. he wants to feel you, every part of you.
just the thought makes the pooling heat in your stomach come to a boil, your toes curling, you cry out, “i’m gonna cum!” he continues fucking you, his stamina never letting up, “cum for me, my pretty girl, i’m close too.”
the pleasure is building to a climax and as he places a hand on your neck and squeezes, you feel your high washing over you, cunt convulsing over his cock. his grip doesn’t release, and black spots start to cover your vision, making you let out a shaky moan.
as he looks down at you, back arching and falling while he fucked you through your orgasm, the obscene sight of your precious body squirming under him is what takes him over the edge. he’s cumming into you, warm jets of white shooting straight into your cunt. his head empty other than his relentless thoughts, “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.”
you both reach that peak together, gripping onto each other for dear life. when you’re all done, he presses a deep kiss on your lips and slips his softening cock out of you, rolling to lie by your side. still, greedily, he pushes his cum back into you, “take it all.”
he opens up and lets you roll into his arms. he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and smooths out your tangled hair. you both lie there in comfortable silence, your eyes falling shut and his focused on you. soon, your breathing became even. when you fall asleep, he rolls himself out of your bed, looking down at your sleeping form, so peaceful and worry-free. he wants you to look like that always. slowly, he gets himself dressed to rejoin your dad’s party downstairs. tucking you in, he presses one final kiss on your head and whispers,
“good girl.”
GETO SUGURU, gojo satoru, zhongli, hajime iwaizumi, NANAMI KENTO, tetsuro kuroo, aki hayakawa
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sinofwriting · 6 months
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It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)
Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part
Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse
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Jeddah 2022
Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.
He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.
He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.
“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.
Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.
And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.
Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.
She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.
“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.
It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.
“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”
“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”
Australia 2022
He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.
So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.
Imola 2022
“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”
He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.
Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.
“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.
“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”
He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.
“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”
She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.
As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.
The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.
“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.
His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.
“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.
Miami 2023
It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.
She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.
She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.
Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?
He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.
He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.
Spain 2022
He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.
Monaco 2022
She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.
He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.
Austria 2022
She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.
It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.
July 2015
“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.
Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.
It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.
“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”
Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.
She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.
Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.
Dutch 2023
“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.
He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.
“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”
Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.
Japan 2022
He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.
As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.
Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he���s done it a hundred times.
He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.
It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.
They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.
He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.
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blue-aconite · 4 months
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the offside rule || j.h.s
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Summary: Jake learns that his girl is crazy about football, but not the kind he expected.
Warnings: jake being a sweetheart, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader
Authors Note: This is inspired by @roosterforme's Sundays Are for the Boys and @teacupsandtopgun's Jake and Flick universe. This is also very self-indulgent and somewhat based on parts of my life.
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“What are you doing?” Jake emerged from the bathroom, only to find his girlfriend on the couch, watching what looked like soccer. 
“I’m watching football, what does it look like?” She didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she reached for the beer bottle on the coffee table. 
Jake didn’t know how to respond. He knew what soccer was, he wasn’t an idiot but he never knew that his girl enjoyed the sport. 
“Soccer, baby. It’s called soccer.” 
Jake knew it was the wrong thing to say as she turned around, an unimpressed look on her face. 
“I’m going to forgive you this time. But in the future, for your information, it’s called football. Not your ridiculous term soccer.” She was all business, a sharp edge to her tone that Jake hadn’t really experienced in their relationship so far. 
There was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as serious as her tone suggested though. Jake flopped down on the couch next to her, plucking the beer out of her hands. “Is this MLS?” 
She snorted, rolling her eyes as she looked him up and down. “MLS is a shit league. It only got interesting since Messi signed for Inter Miami and it’s still shit. You know, we call it the retirement league because it’s where all the greats come to wind down and just kick around.” 
“Hey!” Jake protested. “Doesn’t it have a somewhat good reputation?”
She shook her head. “Baby, I love you but you’ve been greatly deceived.” She patted his cheek, opening another beer, seeing as he had stolen hers. 
Jake grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. Granted, his soccer knowledge was limited but he thought that MLS at least was a popular league. 
“What’s this then?” He pointed to the screen where the game was playing. 
His girl clapped excitedly, tossing the cap onto the table. “This is the greatest league in the world. I give you the Premier League.” She dramatically spread her arms, as if showing him something of great importance. 
In a way, Jake guessed that she was. He had no idea she was this passionate about this but he found it endearing that she did. 
“I recognise that, it’s England, yeah?” Jake was 80% certain he was right but he could also be wrong. Like he said, his knowledge of soccer was limited. 
“Yes! PL is played in England and it’s hands down the most popular and watched league. But there’s obviously others as well.” 
He was a bit intrigued and Jake also wanted to know more about something that made his girl this excited. “Others?” 
“Oh, you’ve got La Liga for example, and Ligue 1. And then there’s Serie A and Bundesliga. My dad used to watch a lot of Eredivisie too. He was a lifelong fan of Ajax.” She quieted down a bit at the end, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her dad. 
Jake pressed a kiss to her shoulder, hand finding hers. He gave a supportive squeeze. He understood now why this was so important to her. 
“Did you guys watch a lot together?” He asked as the game seemingly was paused, the players leaving the field. 
“Yeah. He took me to my first game when I was 4. I barely remember it but I remember the feeling. And he coached my team for as long as I played.” 
That surprised Jake. “You used to play?” It wasn’t something that had come up but he guessed it was somewhat of a sore subject. 
“From the age of five til I was fifteen, maybe sixteen,” she paused. “Uh, I quit playing when he got sick. He wanted me to continue but it just wasn’t the same. It was our thing and then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and..” 
Jake pulled her into his arms, lips pressed to her forehead. “Baby, why haven’t you told me about this before? I would have loved to know more about football if I knew it meant this much to you.” 
She smiled when he called it football and Jake counted it as a small victory. “I honestly don’t know. You’re more of an American football fan and I just figured you didn’t care about this.” 
“I would have cared if you told me. Hell, I know you don’t really care about the Cowboys but you still hang out with me when they play. And wear the jersey.” 
She laughed then, leaning back from his embrace but kept their hands intertwined. “I wear the jersey because I know it gets you all hot and bothered.”
“Well, that’s definitely a perk. You do look very good in blue.” Jake kissed her then, hands sneaking under her shirt to trace her skin. 
She was blushing when they pulled apart and Jake grinned, proud to be the one to make her that way. 
“So is Ajax your team?” He asked, playing with the hem of her shirt. 
“No. As much as I respect and enjoy Dutch football, the Premier League always called to me more. And then I fell in love with Manchester United.” 
Jake’s eyebrows shot up, teasingly pinching her sides. “Fell in love, huh? That means I got competition?” 
She rolled her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for the Red Devils.” 
“Good. Is this them then?” He gestured towards the screen, where the game had resumed. 
“No, they play Aston Villa tomorrow. This is Newcastle vs Arsenal.” 
Jake watched as the team in black and white kicked the ball back and forth. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. I know nothing.” 
She launched into the game, explaining what was happening as well as informing him about the rules and terms. Jake tried his best to keep up but figured he was going to have to do some independent studying to catch up. 
If this was important to his girl, it was important to him. He watched as she kept on talking, gesturing back and forth with her hands, eyes alight with excitement. 
“But there must be leagues outside of Europe, yeah?” He asked after learning that the ones she had rambled off earlier were all based in European countries. 
“For sure, but those are the most popular ones. And considering how much of an impact the Champions League, Europa League and Conference League have, it’s difficult for leagues outside of Europe to compete.” 
Jake’s mind was reeling, trying to piece all the information together. “Wait, Europa League and Champions League? Conference? Where’s that?” 
“All of those are played by teams in Europe. You qualify for UCL when you win your league in your country, and the second tier goes on to play in the UEL and third tier in UECL.” At Jake’s confused expression, she smiled apologetically. 
“Sorry, this is way overboard. How about we keep that for another day and we just keep to the basics for now?” 
Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes please.”
She handed him another beer, smiling softly. 
“So, do I get a Manchester United jersey? It’s only fair, I got you a Cowboys one.” Jake asked. 
He was comfortably leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Initially he had tried to get her to snuggle with him but quickly found out that she wasn’t going to sit still while watching the game. 
“Babe, you’ll get a jersey when you deserve one. Maybe earlier if you can explain the offside rule to me.”  
He was screwed then. “Never mind. I’ll wait.” 
“It’s really not that difficult. A player would be seen as offside if their entire body is in front of the last defender of the opposing team, on the opposing team's half.” 
Jake tried to imagine what it would look like but his mind came up blank. “You’re just speaking gibberish, that doesn’t make sense.”
She smiled softly, a gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a football fan. Just you wait.”
“I can’t wait. I’m also very excited to see you watch your team play.” 
The game was now over and she climbed into his lap, hands finding the back of his head. “Oh, you’re in for a wild ride.” 
Making the most of their position, Jake grabbed a hold of her thighs as he stood up, ignoring her squeal as he headed towards the bedroom. “How about I give you a ride right now?” 
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Two months later, when Jake officially got the offside rule right, a package was waiting for him on the kitchen table when he got home. 
His heart swelled as he pulled out a bright red Manchester United jersey, embroidered with his callsign on the back. There was a note inside the box as well and Jake laughed as he read what his girlfriend had written. 
Now you’re a real football fan. Glory glory Man United! 
Ps. Come find me ;) 
“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” He called, jersey in hand as he stalked the house. 
Her laughter echoed through the house. “Come claim your prize, cowboy.”
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usafphantom2 · 5 months
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Legendary Pilot Bob Pardo, Who Pushed A Damaged F-4 With His F-4 Over Vietnam, Has Died
December 20, 2023 Military Aviation
Bob Pardo
Bob Pardo in a 2017 photo by Senior Airman Ridge Shan. In the background, Pardo's Push in an artwork by S.W. Ferguson.
Bob Pardo passed away earlier this month at the age of 89. With his Phantom, he pushed a crippled F-4 outside the enemy airspace in one of the most heroic missions in the history of military aviation, known as “Pardo’s Push”.
“Pardo’s Push” is the name of an incredible maneuver carried out during the Air War over North Vietnam that, over the years, has become the symbol of heroism and a demonstration of courage and contempt for danger.
March 10, 1967.
Captain Bob Pardo is flying in an F-4C with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Steve Wayne. Their wingman is the F-4C flown by Captain Earl Aman with Weapon Systems Officer 1st Lt Robert Houghton. The two Phantoms of the 8th Tactical Fighter Wing, based at Ubon Royal Thai Air Force Base, Thailand, are assigned the task to attack a steel mill in North Vietnam north of the capital Hanoi.
During the approach to the target, both F-4 is hit multiple times by enemy’s anti-aircraft fire. The North Vietnamese flak causes significant damage to Capt. Aman’s aircraft whose fuel tank begins to leak fuel forcing the crew to abort the mission. While hit too, Pardo’s F-4 is able to continue its mission.
On their egress route, at 20,000 feet, Aman and Houghton determine that they do not have enough fuel to reach a tanker or Laos, where they could eject and avoid capture. Although his F-4 is still efficient and has enough fuel to reach a tanker, Pardo decides to remain with his wingman.
At a certain point, while still inside North Vietnamese airspace, Aman’s Phantom flames out. To save Aman and Houghton, Pardo decides to do something he believes no one has ever done before: he attempts to push the other F-4 to Laos.
Initially, Pardo tries to push the other F-4 by gently making contact with the drag chute compartment. However, turbulence interferes with the maneuver and after several failed attempts, Pardo opts for an extreme solution: he instructs Aman to lower his tailhook, then he positions his F-4 behind the other Phantom leaning his windscreen against the tailhook. The contact is made but the “solution” is quite unstable and, as a consequence of turbulence, Pardo needs to reposition his F-4 every 15 to 30 seconds. Nevertheless, the push works and rate of descent of Aman’s Phantom is considerably reduced.
As if the situation was not complicate enough, Pardo’s F-4 suffers an engine fire, forcing him to shut it down.
Try for a second to visualize the situation: a flame-out F-4 is somehow pushed by means of its tailhook by another F-4 powered by a single engine. In enemy airspace. Incredible.
Ezoic
Pardo pushes Aman’s F-4 for another 10 minutes until his Phantom runs out of fuel too. With both planes safely inside Laotian airspace, at an altitude of about 6,000 feet, the aircrews of both F-4s ejects (they will be rescued by SAR helicopters and evade capture).
Although he saved another aircrew, Pardo was initially reprimanded for not saving his own F-4. Until 1989, when the episode was re-examinated and both Pardo and Wayne were awarded the Silver Star.
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Retired Air Force pilot Lt. Col. Bob Pardo poses in front of a static display model of an F-4 Phantom II, one of the many fighter aircraft he has flown, at Luke Air Force Base, Ariz., Dec. 12, 2017. (U.S. Air Force photo/Senior Airman Ridge Shan)
Pardo and Aman both continued serving and retired from the U.S. Air Force in the rank of lieutenant colonel. Years later, after learning that Aman had lost his voice and mobility because of Lou Gehrig’s disease, created the Earl Aman Foundation that raised enough money to buy Aman a voice synthesizer, a motorized wheelchair, and a computer. The foundation later contributed to raise funds to pay for a van, which Aman used for transportation until his death. In other words, Pardo never left his wingman behind, not even after retiring.
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Noteworthy, as told by John L. Frisbee in his 1996 article for Air Force Magazine, Pardo’s push was not the first time a U.S. pilot pushed another jet out of enemy airspace: in 1952, during the Korean War, fighter ace Robbie Risner pushed his wingman out of North Korea in an F-86. However, pilots were ordered to refrain from attempting the hazardous maneuver again, and the episode had faded from memory and was almost completely unknown within the Air Force by the time Pardo and Wayne pushed Aman and Houghton outside of North Vietnam’s airspace.
Bob Pardo passed away aged 89, on Dec. 5, 2023. His courage and ingenuity, along with the legendary “Pardo’s Push“, will be remembered forever.
About David Cenciotti
David Cenciotti is a journalist based in Rome, Italy. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviationist”, one of the world’s most famous and read military aviation blogs. Since 1996, he has written for major worldwide magazines, including Air Forces Monthly, Combat Aircraft, and many others, covering aviation, defense, war, industry, intelligence, crime and cyberwar. He has reported from the U.S., Europe, Australia and Syria, and flown several combat planes with different air forces. He is a former 2nd Lt. of the Italian Air Force, a private pilot and a graduate in Computer Engineering. He has written five books and contributed to many more ones.
@Aviationist via X
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