#She's had a fascination with it her whole life and loves to lick it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gallusrostromegalus · 2 years ago

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oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Everyone in this fic is a freak and I'm having a great time

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woncon · 1 year ago

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cat cafe date headcanons with soobin !

☕︎ soobin x gn!reader

☕︎ fluff, estabilished relationship, kissing, non-idol au, ficlet, bulleted-form

☕︎ thanks to @wonsheep for helping me fix my grammar mistakes and for giving me advice how to convert a whole story into another language precisely ❣

☕︎ txt masterlist | main masterlist

☽ first of all, soobin is the cutest boy in the whole world (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

☽ he's very excited and, while squeezing your hand, he assures you that he's really looking forward to this new experience: he's never been to a cat cafe before, so you suggested going on a date to one of them. he agreed, thought the idea was cute, and he didn't expect that he would look so forward to it.

☽ he flashes the sweetest smile as he crosses the threshold, and looks at everything with sparkling eyes, even the doormat, on which three drawn white kittens are sitting on a lamppost. then you gently pull him towards the stairs, open the cat door, go up, and everything is so pleasant.

☽ the smell of ground coffee wafts softly in the light of the chandeliers, between the tables and couches. in the corner, two ladies are laughing and passionately petting a gray scottish cat with drooping ears. at another table, a couple is sipping iced coffee, holding hands on the table while watching a sleeping furry animal.

☽ a large, elegant, and curious orange maine coon notices you and gently rubs against you and soobin’s legs. a surprised sigh leaves soobin's mouth.

☽ he bends down and scratches the animal's ears, runs along the line of its spine. the cat blinks flatly and purrs in content. you also bend down and, based on the tag on his collar, you pet hazelnut together.

☽ when hazelnut leaves to nestle in one of the beds, you too look for a place. one of the corner tables, close to the friendly cat, seems just right.

☽ "homely" soobin murmurs as he looks around more closely. the framed pictures of cats and coffee on the cream-colored walls, embroidered cat pillows, and of course, what makes everything special: cat accessories, such as scratching posts, beds, climbing frames, toys, feeders, and the cats themselves, who wander from one guest to another with interest.

☽ it's a comfortable, peaceful place that suits you well. as an added bonus, you both love cats, but you can't have your own at home because of odi. so here you can live out your kitty aunt / kitty uncle status, although it seems that soobin is more committed than you, as he tries to call out the persian cat licking herself under one of the empty tables. he looks at the animal softly and encouragingly.

☽ if you were the cat, you would immediately go over to soobin and settle into his lap, purring.

☽ after you order, the cat makes up her mind to approach. the first page of the menu shows the animals that live here and their names, so you know that the individual with a thick, white coat is called seraphin. she has piercing blue eyes and her entire being is fascinated by soobin as she sits at his feet meowing sweetly. the boy caresses her with his skilled, loving fingers until seraphin finally ends up in his lap, lying down, comfortable and purring. (๑ ˃̵ ᴗ ˂̵)و

☽ "she's purring..."

☽ that happy, proud expression on soobin's face is worth everything to you. the admiration shining in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat, and you don't think coffee could warm your chest more than the love you feel for your boyfriend.

☽ then he divides his attention between you and the cat. he remembers that you wanted to tell him something. you only talk about the little problems of your everyday life, yet soobin listens with interest and love. he doesn't interrupt, he would never do that, he carefully interprets what you have to say, while looking at you, enchanted, as if you were revealing the most exciting facts to him. as if you were a book he was unable to put down, or a song that had to be on constant playback.

☽ at the beginning of your relationship, you often blushed at the intensity of the way soobin can look at you, and the way he reacts, he is moved by what you say: he sighs in astonishment, frowns, snorts disapprovingly, etc. it's a bit embarrassing to know that someone is so focused, so shaken by your words and by you, yourself. and the awareness is also there that the boy remembers what you say, recalls it later, adds comments, and gives excellent advice.

☽ you can count on soobin: if you just pour out your soul, if you want help, he is always here for you(´･ᴗ･`♡

☽ then your monologue is interrupted as another cat jumps up next to you, bowtie, a simple domestic cat whose back is speckled with brown spots. you caress his head, then he rubs his whole body, all the way to the end of his tail, to your palm, and without any more persuasion, he settles into your lap. the sight of his warm, fluffy body, the trust that he gives you, makes you sentimental. you stroke his soft back gratefully.

☽ "where was i?"

☽ "your boss."

☽ "oh, yeah, well..."

☽ but then you confuse yourself because soobin's smile is too distracting and he's a thousand times more interesting than your boss.

☽ "what?" your boyfriend sees that you are silent again, but this time no other cat approaches you.

☽ you kiss him briefly, sweetly, lovingly, then lean away with a satisfied grin.

☽ "nothing."

☽ soobin mumbles something under his breath, then leans close and kisses you longer, tenderly. soobin's lips are soft and just like toffee. ( ´꒳`*)

☽ when the waitress brings your order, you two scatter away from each other. soobin blushes. he likes to kiss you anywhere and anytime, but he always gets embarrassed in public places.

☽ you drink with one hand and dig the other into cat fur. the taste of the coffee is warm, foamy, comfortable, like the place where it is served.

☽ "do we want a cat?"

☽ soobin's question surprises you. you blink and turn to him, the top of your mouth frothy.

☽ "we talked about it being risky because of odi."

☽ there are surprising animal friendships, but somehow odi doesn't seem like someone who would easily cope with a new animal companion. with you too, it took months for him to tolerate you and let you be around or hold him without being a prickly, mistrustful sphere.

☽ "i know, but i'm sure we could fix it. the sound of purring soothes me. and we would be wonderful parents of a kitten."

☽ "we could try."

☽ soobin smiles happily and kisses the whipped cream off you in commitment.

☽ "thank you for bringing me here."

☽ "i'm glad you're enjoying it."

☽ "always, when i'm with you."

☽ these words from soobin's mouth are true and they melt your heart.

☽ it's a cozy cute little date with tasty coffee, a caring boyfriend and a bunch of purring fur-balls. <3

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resmarted · 1 year ago

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one of the perks of this work is meeting people with interesting stories and personalities and learning about these fascinating love stories. so many women who have been scorned by previous men in their lives meet one that changes the game and make them believe in love again.

can't stop thinking of one older woman recently who was so sweet and said i don't know if this is tmi but when we're intimate together i've never felt more beautiful in my life than when i'm with him. i felt so happy for her and wanted to cry.

one woman was a writer in her 70's living in an apartment she bought in nyc like a single sex and the city character and had this tumultuous relationship with a guy who chose a woman with money over her when they were in their 50's who "castrated him" according to her. now as the wife is dying or maybe passed, he is still in love with her. she said she isn't interested and likes her independence and besides, he is a catch for new york bc all these younger women want an older man with money, but he still calls her and wants to be with her again. it was a really intriguing reminder that life doesn't end for several decades longer than you think and people evolve and change so much over time. i told her he has really been learning some big lessons over the last couple of decades and was going to do everything he could to convince her to go back with him so they could live out the rest of their lives together in the country. i think about her all the time.

this is also very exhaustive work. it involves talking nonstop for hours on end and does a number on your voice. it is a performance on it's own, albeit sincere in nature, at least for me. i can't pretend one way or the other and imagine people who do must be so much more tired from their own performances faking it the whole time.

as much as i am not interested in doing this for the rest of my life, i do like a lot of aspects to it. specifically these older women who find hope in love again and being able to see the way men truly do change for the better.

i just don't know that i have the stamina to keep this going forever and am mostly just in it because it's considered the family business at this point.

i am considered very good at what i do but feel like a fraud in the sense that i was born into this and sort of just tumbled into doing it as a last ditch effort for employment. other people who enter this business spend a lot of their time and energy to build up their skills and respond to their own calling for this work. my mom had a very specific calling to do this whereas i tend to treat it like flipping burgers at a drive-thru. it can often feel like grunt work and nothing more than a day job.

that being said, i still don't know what my Calling is. i can never truly care about any one specific thing for long enough. i like to hold babies and make people laugh and sing sad little songs but i wouldn't say any of it is my One True Passion.

it's also hard to take the things you like and turn them into work. once they become commercialized efforts the weight of participating in it can feel very different.

i am scared all the time and never know what direction my life is going or if i even have a clear path of my own. life is very frightening in a myriad of ways and this world is so hell bent on making us lick boots for small fractions of the cost of living. i hate it and want to fight it but am also very tired and undereducated. i once felt i could inspire the masses to revolt but lately i want to hide in a cave and remain unseen for the rest of my days.

it will probably all be fine.

anyway. love you bye

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greypentachoron · 2 years ago

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The thing about having sheltered over 300 cats and living with 13 of them is that CLEARLY some cats are neurodivergent but like... Not in a human way.

Cats overall have behaviors that can be similar to human autism, but that's common for their species. We have to pick the overall cat behavior and consider outliers to think about neurodivergent cats.

And I'm not talking about depression, anxiety or PTSD related to trauma, those are basically obvious when you foster a cat with a difficult past, I'm talking behaviors that even in a healthy environment they just Are That Way. I'm gonna add a break down here if you wanna hear more about my experiences, and I welcome anyone who have cats (or any other pet, really) with neurodivergent behaviors to share their experiences too because this is fascinating for me.

I'm gonna start with my first case of "huh. This cat is... Not what I expect." I sadly don't have pictures of him anymore, but I promise the next ones will have pictures as payment for a long post.

Paçoca was found inside a dumpster barrel as young as 2 weeks old. Back then I was fostering a momma cat who had just given birth, and when I introduced him to her she decided "yep, long lost baby. Come on in"

Other than having enough fleas to drain him in a day he was healthy and full of energy. I dewormed him, gave him flea meds and he was fed and taken care of, but he didn't... Know how to socialise with other cats. His adoptive siblings were around his age, they tried playing, but the little dude was just confused by the whole thing and usually ran to hide from them. He meowed loudly towards every cat, those throaty meows cats usually do during heat even before his sexual maturity (and he was spayed very early on).

We checked his ears and eyes and he was fully healthy. He showed happiness by wagging his tail like a dog, and loved to play tag like one even though he never interacted with a dog ever. When he tried to interact with other cats when he felt secure enough, most of them interpreted his mannerisms like a threat because of the throaty meows, the intense stare, wagging tail and running after them. He was never trying to attack, mind you, when he got near his newest cat fascination he tried licking, headbutting, grooming... I am not sure how his life was before he was 2 weeks old, but he had most of his major kitten sociability milestones around a healthy mom and siblings. He was just a weird lil dude I guess.

This little lady is Pompom. She came after Paçoca, but I haven't figured out cat behaviors back then and she was the most striking. She's very aggressively set in routines, cats usually are but it physically pains her to leave her routines. When I lived in my older house she would go to the kitchen window to greet my neighbour everytime he came from work. She hisses and growls at the doorbell because she knows it's something different. When I changed her eating behaviors after she got healthy she would not eat and I had to keep doing the same exact steps for a long while and reducing the "tradition" bit by bit until she was comfortable.

Let me elaborate on that. When she had liver issues I gave all the cats their food while she waited patiently even though she hated the fancy food she was eating, I filled her bowl on the kitchen counter, called her name, we walked towards my bedroom, I closed the door and let the good down. Everyday, three times a day. It took me six months to ease her into the new routine, took me over a year to ease her OUT of the routine. She would not eat if the steps were wrong, she starved herself. Sometimes she was making progress and then remembered her routine and "nope, I don't think I will eat with the door open today"

Starting a new job and moving houses was (and still is, as far as I'm seeing) a terrible experience to her. She became EXTREMELY dependent and desperate for attention. She sleeps on my arms like a baby after these changes, won't eat if me or my mom are not around and she hisses and hates other cats in her personal space. She became extremely antisocial with other cats after my life changed and, sadly, even with a vet accompanying her about her behaviors, nothing changed. She's now a very lonely cat when she was very social, but I'm letting my other cats around her more often bit by bit to open her up to her cat social life again.

I'd like to just add "that's Pirate, he's a baby, next" but you wouldn't understand how much neurodivergent this cat is.

Pirate Does Not Understand he's not a kitten. He has the manners of a kitten and he's been living with me for two years already. He was at least 5 months old when I rescued him and he lived with a small gang of strays. Zero self protection, no social cues, nothing.

This cat was rescued because he and his gang were stealing food from the kitchens of TWO local restaurants, people were throwing beer (drink AND bottles) on them, and I heard the neighbours talk about poisoning food to leave for them. The gang was easier, I just had to move them from the streets to our colony where they get cat food three times a day, but Pirate has this funny defense mechanism... When he feels threatened he SCREAMS. Also he kept trying to eat trash bags, but the screams are a menace.

Rain? He stands there, in the rain, and yells. Car noise? Stands and yells. Cat approaching? Yell. He doesn't move, and more than once I had to run during the rainy season to search for this silly little cat who was arms deep on a puddle yelling because woe is me. I was drenched like I just went swimming wearing clothes. He's a disaster.

And, as I said, he's a Baby. He sees other cats and he wants to play like a kitten, he wants to be groomed. He doesn't partake in the give-and-take of adult cat behavior because he Is A Baby. He meows on every cat's face begging for grooming like a tiny little kitten. He tries cuddling with other cats and knows no boundaries of personal space with other cats. He just wants to cuddle, nuzzle, pile on top, if you've seen a kitten with an adult cat, that's him.

And the last one is Rosemary. First of all he's afraid of wet food. Deadly afraid, sees wet food and runs away so quickly he slides on the floor. I've never. Ever. Saw anything similar. I know cats that don't care about it, but he FLEES. He and his mom are with me since his birth. No trauma on this little head. I tried many brands, tried many recipes of homemade wet food, and he is TERRIFIED of it. If there's no dry food he won't eat. He also does chirping noises instead of meowing to cats, and I know he can meow because he meows to me. The chirping seems to be an uncomfortable warning, a "leave me alone", and he is very nonconfrontational with other cats unless there's bullying. He WILL attack the bully to defend the other cat.

Any other social cues related to cat behaviors? None. Nada. He grooms himself and me when I pet him, but he is scared of others grooming him, and is afraid of his own cat mom. My cats are not aggressive or territorial with each other, so I'm not sure where this fear comes from. He also wags his tail to show happiness even though he never met Paçoca, full wag and not point of the tail flickering, so I'm not sure what to make out of it. I don't have much to say about him, but honestly he's a weird and finicky little dude. It's almost as if he's a little alien who tried to get cat behavior right but everything is kind of off.

Everything the other cats do is confusing, cat weed is terrifying, he doesn't like drinking water from bowls but he is confused how sinks and fountains work, plants are weird--- I see him struggle with normal concepts for cats and I'm not sure why, but my cat son needs more time to process than other cats. I've interacted with enough of them to realise he's a little different, but that's fine!

And that's all I remember for now. Again, if you like please reblog with your own "my pet is probably neurodivergent" stories. I'd love to hear all about it <3

And that's feeding time missing only 3 of them, Lynx eats by the living room table, Pompom eats in the bedroom and Maia is starting to accompany her to see if I can socialise Pompom back after the move!

#hyperfixation #cat #neurodivergent #pets

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justonemorechapternicercy · 3 years ago

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If you’re doing the rare pairs thing, Percy/Kronos?

I had this in my inbox for a year, and I'm so sorry for that. 😭

⚠️ Warnings: blow job

Kronos looked down, watching the thick length of his - Castellan’s - cock vanish into Perseus Jackson’s pink lips. Seeing the little hero, the practically perfect son of one of the eldest gods swallowing him, gagging for him flooded him with satisfaction and victory.

He won.

That sensation was glorious - almost as glorious as Perseus' lips.

Throwing his head back to the cold marble walls of Olympus, Kronos willed his body - Castellan's, too young and too virginesque to last long enough - to calm down. The vision of the only heroic son of Aphrodite - always so flawless, a born leader - eagerly sucking the enemy's cock, split running down his chin, face flushed red, was just so delicious. Victory never felt so sweet.

Kronos knotted his hands in the demigod's messy fluff of hair, pulling it, leading Perseus' head where he wanted. Castellan imagined this before, more times than Kronos would be willing to admit, but feeling it was nothing a child like the son of Hermes could have ever imagined.

Kronos lived for a long, long, long time, but nothing could be compared to Perseus Jackson.

The demigod moaned around his cock, like the hungry, insatiable bitch he was, and Kronos was happy to give everything to him. He jerked forward, thrusting his girthy length into that perfect mouth, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. The son of Aphrodite was a drooling mess, and it was the biggest accomplishment Kronos ever felt. "You like it, don't you?" His voice was low and rumbling, nothing like Castellan's naturally higher tone. Fucking Jackson's mouth was something only he, Kronos, the King of the Titans could and should enjoy.

Nobody else. Not even the original owner of his new body.

"If only your mother could see you… I bet she would be proud of you. Her sluttiest son, pleasuring his king," he murmured. Fascinated, he caressed Perseus' red lips that were wrapped around his cock with his thumb, sliding it in. The demigod's mouth was so full, yet, it seemed it was just as insatiable as his mother's.

Kronos looked down at the demigod, the demigod who was in the center of his attention since the first time he appeared, easily defeating a Fury, sent by Hades, believing he was the son of one of his brothers. Even Kronos believed the teen was his grandson from one of his sons, he was so powerful even without training, just to find out he was the son of Aphrodite.

But not the son of the Love Goddess. No, he was the son of Aphrodite Areia, the son of Aphrodite the Warlike.

His sea-green eyes - so similar to Poseidon's, yet so different, as his connection to the sea was different - were looking up at him, lust-blown and wifey almost glazed over by the pleasure he felt for being able to serve his king. His whole body seemed to tremble with excitement as he swallowed Kronos' whole cock, taking all of it down in his throat. The Titan moaned, the slick wet heat of Perseus' mouth made his cock rock hard and leaking. Never in his life he felt like this.

Kronos dug his fingers deep into Perseus' scalp, tugging it hard, making the demigod's mouth into his own. He took what he wanted, and it didn't take long until he was coming, shooting hot spurts of come down Perseus' throat.

Licking away even the last drop of the sticky come, Perseus slid his lips from Kronos' cock. Before he could draw back, the Titan led his head to his tights, making sure the boy would rest. Flushed cheeks met with sweaty tights and Kronos knew there was no way he would ever let the boy go. Perseus' place was there, kneeling in front of him, pleasuring him, being cared for by him.

His hands lazily caressed the demigod's hair. "Who would have thought that the big hero of the Aphrodite cabin is just like his siblings? A whore for somebody bigger and more powerful," Kronos smirked. The boy in his lap froze, but relaxed instantly, knowing Kronos was right.

"There's much that you don't know about me," Perseus quipped back, grinning winningly, showing off pearl white teeth.

"Then I'll have fun finding out all your secrets, my pet," Kronos grinned, pulling the boy to his feet.

Just before he could drag the demigod into a scorching kiss, he felt a sharp pain in his armpit-

And the last thing he could hear was, "Unfortunately, you won't have time to do that."

#percy jackson #kronos #kronos x percy #percy's harem #lemon #pjo ficlet #pjo

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theneondemonx · 4 years ago

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HOUDINI | JJK

One Shot

▽ summary: jungkook was your first and only. When he got arrested, you felt like an idiot for always believing his every word and after a few years you decided to date again. But the word somehow got to his ears in jail and he couldn’t let you be anyone else’s but his.

▽ genre: porn with some plot, criminal au, established relationship

▽ pairings: escaped convict!jk x fem!reader

▽ words: 3464

▽ warnings: mention of abusive relationship, mention of alcohol abuse, mention of underage sex, criminal activities, implied murder, possessive behavior, mention of female masturbation, spanking, fingering, female ejaculation, overstimulation, oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk

( ➜ Drabble 1: first meeting ) [⏵playlist]

He hit me and it felt like a kiss He hit me and I knew he loved me If he didn't care for me I could have never made him mad But he hit me and I was glad

You were still very young when you learned that love was nothing like the cheesy romances you’d see on the big screen. Well, you didn’t actually have the money to go to the movies, but sometimes you found the way to sneak in and watch whatever was there to watch. You had a fascination for those stories, for those dancing images on the screen. They were made of pure light. Literally. While everyone was caught in the enchantment of the movie, you were the one to look behind your back and follow the light beam up until its source, looking straight at the small window from which the projector created the whole illusion of life before your eyes.

Most people want to escape from reality. They want to feel like their life has meaning, like it is just one plot twist away from being interesting. I didn’t. Maybe I should have, since mine was pretty shit. But I guess this was the whole reason why I was looking for the disenchantment. It’s like watching a magician. I’ve always been the type to be more observant, to look for the trick. Cause if there wasn’t any, then it would have meant that mine was the only pointless existence.

No one in your block had a penny to their names. Everyone dreamed of going away, of starting a new life and do something meaningful. But you knew that most of them would never make it. They were trapped.

We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

Those weren’t your words. They were Jungkook’s. Well, not his own words, actually. He had read them somewhere. He was the type to read, although he didn’t look like it at all. And you know how people who read are: they are good with words. They can shape reality with just a flick of their tongue. And damn if he got a way with words! That’s why you fell for him.

It wasn’t just the fact that he got the looks of an angel. He also talked like one. He could talk his way in and out of everything and you were pretty sure he could lie his way into heaven if he wanted to. He was an exceptional liar, a pathological one too. But you loved him anyway.

You believed him when he told you that he was going to turn your life upside down. Why wouldn’t you? He had already done it more times than you could count. He had done it since the day you first met in that dark movie theatre. You had always believed him and everything he said. He was the only man you ever loved, the first and the last you had sex with, and eventually the one you married.

He reminded you of your father. They had the same dangerous charm. Their eyes gleamed with the same light: that of a man who was willing to con the whole world and make it his own. Your father didn’t make it, though. He became a drunk mess and ended up in prison for attempted murder.

Only a pathetic fuck goes to jail for attempted murder. Either you go down for murder, or you don’t go down at all. That’s how much of a failure he was.

But you didn’t care about him. He used to beat your mother whenever he felt like it. Jungkook, on the other hand, never did that.

So, when he told you those words – “the less you know, the better” – you didn’t question him. You just believed him. And when he came home with a bag full of money and his hands covered in blood, you still didn’t question him. You just did as he asked and bent over the kitchen table to let him fuck you senseless.

You really didn’t care about what he did. Everyone in your block was somehow entangled with criminal activities. That’s just how it is when you can’t afford an honest life. What if he robbed a bank? What if he killed someone to get that money? So what? You’d love him anyway. You’d love him no matter what.

You still loved him when you heard the sirens wailing through the block and stop outside your shared house. You didn’t care about the fact that he just ripped your marriage into pieces. You always knew he was an Icarus.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll be home for dinner.” He told you with a cocky smirk, while being pushed inside the police car.

And again, you believed him.

He was the only magician who ever managed to deceive you into thinking that his was actual magic and not just a trick. But when the jury found him guilty of aggravated robbery and murder, you felt like the lights had gone off and the curtain closed on his magic show. It was over. And now you were left standing in a sad empty circus, with just the distant music of the carousel to remind you of the fact that it was all a rouse. A convincing one for sure, but still a rouse.

When you saw him being taken away from the trial, you thought about those words he told you years before.

We think of the key, each in his prison. Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

And you smiled to yourself. Somehow, even though your whole life had just gone to pieces, you found them ironic. Who would have thought, back then, that he would end up in an actual prison? Not you for sure.

The years had passed and although you never really moved on from Jungkook, you decided it was time for you to build a life for yourself. You were still young and pretty, so it wasn’t hard for you to fool some stupid rich boy from the city. Kim Seokjin was no Jeon Jungkook, but he had money and a steady job – one that could actually pay for rent, food and vices without raising any question from the authorities.

He didn’t know you were broke as fuck, and you did your best to hide it with the means you had and the cunning that your lowlife background had teach you. You would buy fancy dresses and hide the tag when you wore them, so that you could return them the day after. You would also tell Seokjin to come pick you up at work in Gangnam. You never worked there, of course, but he was dumb enough to believe you. It didn’t really matter: you planned on sleeping with him soon enough and let him knock you up. Men always get way too excited when you tell them that they can fuck you without putting on a condom.

What you didn’t plan, however, was to find yourself with a tattooed hand covering your mouth when one night you came back home from a date with Seokjin. At first you tried to scream and free yourself from the strong grip of the mysterious man that somehow got into your house, but you froze as soon as he spoke.

“Shh be quiet, baby. You want to be the one to rat me out?”

You’d recognize that voice among millions. It was Jungkook.

How did he get out? His sentence is not over yet. He still has to serve twenty more years.

You thought that by being quiet and staying still, he would loosen the grip on you, but he didn’t.

“Fancy dress you got here, honey.” He hissed, pressing his lips against your ear and making you shiver from his touch. His hand trailed along the side of your body, caressing the expensive fabric of the white dress.

“Was your new boyfriend, the one who bought it for you?”

Your eyes widened at that question and you again tried to free yourself without success.

“Yeah.. I know. I was surprised too when Yoongi came to visit me and told me you were seeing some fancy city boy with his head up his tuxedo-covered ass.”

You knew that no matter how soft his voice could sound, he was mad. He was always calm when he was really mad.. until he wasn’t calm anymore.

“I told him: no, Yoongi, there’s no way that’s true. My sweet Y/N would never do something like that. She is a faithful wife, not some dirty whore who’s ready to sell her cunt to the first Richie Rich who comes around.”

He chuckled darkly.

“But he brought me the photos. So I guess I was wrong.”

He abruptly turned you around, pushing your back against the wall. It was then, that you saw him. His hair got longer and he somehow got some tattoos on his right arm. His dark eyes were gleaming in the dark with a mischievous light that you had never seen on him – not when he was looking at you, at least.

His fingers tightened around your jaw, forcing you to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Did you let him touch you?”

“N-no.” You muttered, with your heartbeat racing fast and your eyes wide open like those of an innocent doe who was just caught by a cold-blooded hunter.

He pressed his body on yours, breathing heavily against your lips without breaking eye contact.

“If you are lying to me.. I’ll know, Y/N.” He hissed. And you knew that those words were a clear warning.

“I expect your cunt to be tighter than it was when I left. If it isn’t..” he chuckled, slightly tilting his head to the side and licking his lips while caressing gently your reddened cheek. “..well, I guess I’ll stretch your holes so wide that there won’t be any doubt about whose little whore you are.”

He didn’t give you any time to breathe, let alone answer. He pressed his lips on yours with such passion that he sucked the air out of your lungs. And you melted.

You still loved him, after all. You still craved for his touch, which you missed every single night that you’ve spent in your empty bed. Every time you touched yourself, you always closed your eyes and think of him: his hands, his lips, his toned body, his cock, his breath, his smell.. everything. No man could turn you on like he did.

You could tell he had changed. He got more violent, more possessive. But for some reason, that didn’t bother you. Somehow, in a fucked up way, you enjoyed it. It was like you just had the proof that he truly loved you. That you were sill his.

You run your fingers through his hair, tightening your grip while kissing him deeply. A muffled sigh escaped from your lips when his tongue entered your mouth, exploring every corner of it like that was the last kiss he was ever gonna give you.

“Touch me.” You murmured, like it was a prayer sent straight to God.

The first one that was actually answered, since Jungkook’s hands quickly slipped under your dress while you kicked off your shoes. He turned you around again, face against the wall, and removed your underwear.

You gasped at his touch on your wet entrance, arching your back so that he could see your pussy in its full glory.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” He murmured, starting to run his palm on your pussy.

You moaned, grinding against his hand in search of his touch while he steadied your hips with the strong grip of his free hand.

“Already purring like a kitten, baby?”

Another moan escaped from your lips, this time loudly, when he inserted his middle finger in your throbbing core, feeling it clench around his touch.

“Such a good girl. You didn’t lie to me.” He commented in a hiss, inserting another finger to test your tightness and starting to pump his digits on your most sensitive spot.

“So tight. Will you be able to take my cock, baby?”

“Y-yes. Yes I will.” You answered in between your heavy breaths and moans, chasing the pleasure that his movements gave you.

You suddenly let out a sharp cry when you felt his hand slapping your ass cheek without notice. But the lingering pain had the only effect of heightening the pleasure and getting you even more wet.

Hu chuckled, spanking you one more time.

“Fuck! Jungkook!”

He had always loved it when you said his name during sex, and he still did apparently, since he started pumping his digits harder inside you. The lewd sounds of your pussy soon filled the silence of the night.

When his other hand reached your clit and started drawing quick circles around it, your legs started shivering and your eyes rolled back from the pleasure. If it wasn’t for the wall, you’d probably fall on your knees when the orgasm hit you. You moaned so loud that you almost sounded like a dying animal.

“That’s it baby. Cum for me.”

His words only made it worse and you couldn’t help but feel like a fire ball hit you right in the belly. Your walls clenched around his pumping digits and soon your climax reached an unprecedented high, making you ejaculate on his hand while waves of pleasure went through your body like an electric shock.

“Oh my God!” Was is reaction to the mess you just made.

He let out a satisfied laugh, retracting his fingers from your overstimulated core just to smear your arousal on your own lips.

“Open your mouth, baby. I want you to taste yourself – the way I make you feel.”

You obeyed, and even if you were still panting and barely able to function, you took his fingers in you mouth, rotating your tongue around them and sucking every drop of your own arousal before letting them out with a pop.

“Good girl.” He praised you softly, caressing your hair. “Now get on your knees for me.”

Again, you obeyed without hesitation while he unzipped his pants and pumped himself a few times in front of your face.

You looked up at him, licking your lips. You could still taste your slick on them, but you wanted something different. You wanted his taste. And you were so eager to get it, that you didn’t waste any time.

You soon wrapped your mouth around his hard cock, sucking it like it was your last meal. But letting you have it your way was not Jungkook’s plan. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, tying them up in a ponytail that was only held by his own hand, and started thrusting inside your mouth until tears were gathering at the corner of your eyes.

A deep growl escaped from his lips at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock and your messed up make up smeared all over your face.

“My little whore. Always so good for me.” He said through his panting, face fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

And probably there wasn’t gonna be one. For all you knew, the police could come at any moment and take him back to his cell – this time, forever. But, if anything, the thrill just added something extra to the whole situation, making it even more exciting.

The rhythm of his deep thrusts against your throat soon made you gag. And that was it. That was what he wanted, what he was looking for.

“Oh shit! Fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

His cum shot straight down your throat, filling you with his warm liquid. You loved his taste. You always had since the first time he sucked his cock. You were only fifteen back then, and you had no idea how to do it. But he was older than you and he guided your every movement, teaching you what he liked and what he wanted. You thought you’d spit him out, but you always swallowed. You liked it. You liked the taste of his orgasm and you liked to know that you were the one to make him cum like that.

“Take off your dress and bra.”

Your jaw was still feeling numb and your legs weak when he ordered you to undress, but you still obeyed, in a daze.

“Now bend over the couch.”

Again, you didn’t raise any question. You just crawled towards the couch and rested your chest on the pillows, closing your eyes while you tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart beating strong, muffled by the padded fabric of the couch. The only other sound was that of his steps, getting closer and closer to you until he dropped heavily on his knees, resting his large hands on your ass cheeks and parting them.

He let out a pleased moan and you could feel his gaze devouring the most intimate part of your body. You didn’t even need to look or feel him to know that he was getting hard again. And you felt proud. You arched your back and spread your legs a big wider, offering him the whole show. You loved to know that he wanted you so bad. Just the thought of his desire aroused you more than anything else.

He chuckled, spanking you again and making you gasp at the sharp feel of his palm against your sensitive skin.

“God, you’ve always loved being a slut for me. Am I right?”

You thought the question was rhetoric, so you didn’t respond. But when he gave you another spank and bent over you, pulling your hair to get your ear closer to his lips, you knew he wanted to hear your voice.

“Answer me. Whose little slut are you?”

“Y-yours, Jungkook. I’m your little slut.”

He chuckled darkly, letting go of your hair while caressing your reddened ass cheek and pressing his lips on your ear.

“Good girl.” He praised you, slowly starting to align the tip of his cock with your wet entrance.

You whimpered at the feel, arching your back even more to look for more friction. Seeing you like that, so eager to have him inside of you, was all it took for him to sink deep inside your core, filling you with all his length and stretching your walls.

“Fuck! You got so tight, baby.”

You did. While he was away, you didn’t have sex with anybody and you only started thinking about that when you met Seokjin. Not because you really wanted to, but because you felt like it was a necessary step to get what you wanted. Sure, Jin was handsome, but he was no Jungkook. Your husband, your first love, your first everything – he was the only one who could make you wet just by staring at you. He had that power – the power to make your head spin like you had too many drinks.

Jungkook hold your hips in place and started pounding you hard, making you moan at every thrust until you were just a hot wet mess at his mercy.

“Jungkook..” That was all you could say, breathless, while feeling your walls clench around his cock like they were holding to dear life.

He went balls deep inside of you, fucking you for all the times he didn’t in the past three years. It was intoxicating, and you knew you could never get enough of that feeling – of him.

“Jungkook.. cum inside me, please.” You whimpered, pleading him with a mere whisper when you felt his thrusts getting sloppier and more imprecise. Your orgasm was close too, but you wanted to make sure he didn’t pull out. You wanted to feel every drop of him.

“Y/N.. fuck!” Was all he said while he sank deep inside your core, filling you up with his cum and pumping it in to get you closer to your climax.

You came with his name on your lips and the lewd sounds of your sex filling your ears like the sweetest music you’d ever heard. Your hands grabbed the fabric of the couch and you could feel your saliva dripping down the side of your lips, parted by the intense sensation of your orgasm.

He dropped with his chest pressing on your back. You could feel his heavy breath against your skin and his heartbeat trying to get a calmer pace while the high of the climax was slowly fading away.

“We are leaving tonight, baby.” He whispered in your ear after a few moments of silence. “I’m not going back to jail. I’m not gonna let them tear us apart again.”

And again, even after everything that had happened, you believed him.

I guess this is my prison. You are. But I don’t want to escape.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

“I love you too, baby.”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jk #jjk #jeon jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook criminal au #smut #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts criminal au #fanfic #oneshot #bts oneshot #bts x reader #criminal au

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

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forever is the sweetest con | Chip Taylor x Reader

18+

Summary: Reader's dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they're lucky, they get his daughter's number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader's mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: thank you @samuel-de-champagne-problems for requesting a chip fic!! i am in love with him and also yes this plot is something that happened to my parents, however, my mom is still alive and my dad does give my Instagram out to the men who subcontract for him lmao!

Her father was a carpenter, and he often took on apprentices. You see, he had to learn everything on his own to make his way in life and support his family, he was willing to help other men do the same thing. And so every night he would come home from work and talk about whatever idiot he was teaching this week.

“His name is Chip,” her father emphasized the p with confusion, “what is that even short for?”

“It’s short for Charles,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “is he at least more competent than that Mason kid?”

“Much!” He rolled his eyes, “although I did have to teach him how to put crown moulding in today, he’s a quick learner and you can tell he’s just following what they teach at the schools but I know the hacks.”

“I know, Dad,” she smiled. “Is he cute? Single?”

She’s been on dates with most of the guys he’s worked with, mainly because they went to her high school back in the day, but also because her father was trying to play matchmaker. Ever since her mother died, she’s been taking care of him and he just wanted her to have some fun outside of the house. She needed a life in his eyes.

She was content working at the diner and serving people food all day just to come home and take care of her father. He worked hard to make sure they stayed afloat after her mom, the least she could do is make him dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day.

“He is actually,” he shrugged, “he’s a yes man, you’d probably really like him.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, waiting for whatever snide comment he was going to make to jokingly piss her off.

“Your aunt Lisa only married your uncle Jason because he was a yes man and she could wear the pants, and you’ve always been just like her,” he explained it nicer than she expected.

“Give him my number next time you work with him?” She asks nicely, taking his plate from the table and moving it to the sink.

“Good luck chip,” she hears him mumble under his breath.

It makes her laugh, she loves her relationship with her father and the friendly environment they were able to keep after everything that’s happened to their family. They always laughed together, he was always cracking jokes and even when they were shouting obscenities at each other it came from a place of love, “fuck-head” was a term of endearment in their home.

—

He brings Chip home with him without telling her, she’s been home all day cleaning the house; her hair is a mess and she’s all sweaty, and he really is cute. She made enough food for an army so it wasn’t a problem in her father’s eyes, saying “doesn’t she always look beautiful? It’s fine Y/N.”

“Yeah,” Chip agreed with a small smile and a blush that roared red down his neck. "You're very beautiful."

She cleans up a bit before dinner, brushing her hair and changing into a nice sundress. She adds some perfume and shakes the anxiety out of her body, he was just one of her dad’s friends from work. And he happened to be incredibly adorable.

Returning to find them talking about how he fixed their frozen pipes in the winter with a hairdryer. It was the most basic shit to her and yet Chip was fascinated like he’s never heard any of these things before. He’s holding a beer in his hands with a leg crossed as he leans on the sofa and he’s so cute…

He’s in his work jeans and his shirt is all sweaty, and his hair is curled on the ends from all the hard work. His hands are dirty and he smells like sawdust and home. She’s not listening to a single thing they’re talking about, she’s just staring at the way his face moves when he talks and how sweet his laugh is.

He loves dinner, he’s beyond thankful and even more so for dessert. She made homemade banana bread with the bananas they had, they were going to go bad if she didn’t. It wasn’t anything special but he acted like she made his whole day.

He helps bring all the dishes into the kitchen, standing beside her as she fills the sink with water, “do you have a towel? I could help dry.”

“I know where everything is, how about you wash and I dry?” She compromises with a smile, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

She learns a little about him, he’s kind and friendly and he seems to crave the feeling of family that being in her home provides. He doesn’t want to stop washing dishes because then he has to go home, and he doesn’t look like he really wants to do that either.

“Do you need a ride home, Chip?” She asks as he lets the sink water out, “I was thinking about going to get some ice cream if you want to join me?”

“I would love to,” he smiles again, “thank you, Y/N.”

—

She understands everything when she drops him off at his tiny, little, run-down apartment; he’s going to be all alone as soon as he leaves her car and she hates that for him. He was so nice it was hard to believe that he didn’t have a nice partner and a house and kids by now.

“I wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner after all your shifts with my dad? Just text me before so I make enough dinner?” She offers with butterflies swarming in her stomach.

“You’re too kind to me,” he replies, unable to meet her eyes as she turns to him.

“I just want more time to look at you,” she teases, “you’re really handsome.”

He lights up, “you think so?”

She nods with a small laugh, pushing air through her nose as she leans in more, “and you’re nice and funny, and your voice is cute.”

He’s stunned as his eyes flick back and forth from hers to her lips, his lips are parted as he tries to breathe but fails, he looks like no one has ever told him that before.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?” She changes the topic so that he can focus once more.

“I should be,” he replies just soft enough for her to hear.

“Would you like a sandwich for lunch? My dad said often the guys don’t bring that much with them to eat, I wouldn’t mind making you a sandwich too?”

She’s not sure why she feels the need to take him in and care for him but she does. She wants to wrap him up in a hug and make his meals and tuck him in at night. He just has this aura that calls for love and she desperately wants to give it to him.

He leans forward and kisses her, she kisses back instinctively and reaches to hold his face. His cheeks are soft as she runs her thumb along the skin, she pulls back only to press a few more pecks to his lips.

“You're something else,” he whispers against her lips before stealing another kiss.

He’s sweet, he tastes like vanilla ice cream and she just wants more. She kisses him again and again, eventually licking at his bottom lip and desperately whining to make out with him. She hasn’t felt this needy since she was a high schooler, but something in Chip made her feel alive.

She is leaning so far into his space she might as well get into his seat too. She moves to kiss his jaw and down his neck and he’s nothing but hands as he feels all over her back.

“Do you want to come inside?” He whispers, scared but just as desperate as she is.

“I shouldn’t,” she says before continuing her trail of kisses down his neck.

She can’t leave any marks because her father will know, but she also doesn’t care. He’d probably just give him a high five and move on with his day. She wanted to be even closer to him, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him for hours just because she could.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he tries to persuade her, “it just might be more comfortable for this?”

“Alright.”

He holds her hand on the walk up to his apartment, she likes how much he already feels like hers. He shows her inside and before the door is even closed she’s connecting their lips once again. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. She places one of her thighs between his and grinds herself even closer to him.

He’s hard against her hip and the prospect of sleeping with him is so enticing but she knows she can't, at least not yet. It would be too quick, she wants to just appreciate him like this. Her kisses trail from his lips to his ear and he’s still a whining mess, but he’s completely still as she sets the pace of her grinding. He’s not pushing her to do anything or move this along, he’s just letting her explore everywhere… he’s so different.

“I don’t want to have to do laundry tonight,” he whispers with a smirk, moving his hands down to block her from grinding on his erection anymore.

She just undoes his belt and pushes his jeans to the floor before resuming the same position as before, this time she pulls her dress up and rests the clothed tip of his cock in just the right spot under her.

He’s holding her closer again, his arms wrapping almost all the way around her as his big hands grab handfuls of her skin in a desperate attempt to be closer to her. She keeps kissing his neck, they’re more open-mouthed and breathy than she intends but he just feels so good under her.

No one has ever made her feel this desperate before, something about him made her want to devour him whole. His sounds were delicious, his skin even more so, she couldn’t help herself from nipping and sucking at his neck as he made more beautiful noises.

She was so close and she could tell he wasn’t far behind, “let go, Chip,” she whispers in his ear, “cum with me.”

She grinds down hard one final time and he’s a shaking, moaning mess. It’s the feeling of the wet patch in his underwear and the feeling of him shudder that sends her over the edge, panting into his neck as they hold each other close against the door.

He turns them around, taking her by the waist and manhandling her until she’s the one against the door. His lips are on her neck and it’s like his orgasm has only enticed him to go further, “you’re too good to me.”

“You deserve good things Chip,” she whispers as her hand comes up to grip his hair as he continues to kiss her neck.

“Let me say thank you,” he whispers as he drops to his knees and pushes her dress up as she reaches to pull it up for him.

She spreads her legs as he moves her panties to the side and dives in. Spreading her with two fingers he sucks her clit into his mouth first and she tugs on his hair so tight he moans against her. Sending another shockwave through her body as he built another orgasm up.

He’s so good with his mouth, her legs are quaking as she tries to stay standing against the door. She can feel him everywhere but it’s still not enough, she wants him deep inside of her but she knows it’s way too soon to even be doing this. She has never gone this fast with someone before but she couldn’t stop, he felt too amazing.

“Chip,” she chanted his name, tugging on his hair tighter to get him to moan against her and send her over the edge once again.

She ruts against his tongue, fucking his face as she rides it out and he is more than happy to keep going as long as she wants him to and it feels so good she might just stay there. But the twitches get too intense and the whine she makes lets him know she’s done as he kisses back up her body.

Supporting her against the door, he presses his body against her once more. Taller than her, he tilts her chin up so she can look him in the eyes, his chin and nose are glistening with her cum and somehow he’s still cute.

She kisses him on the lips quickly, “when I can feel my legs again, I need to head home.”

When she leaves, she just sits in her car for a few minutes as she settles even more. Then she heads to the grocery store on the way home to get nice things for his sandwich tomorrow, because any man who can make her cum twice in 10 minutes deserves the best sandwich.

—

Waking up at 6 in the morning to make sandwiches is normally a chore, she sometimes makes them the night before so she doesn’t have to worry and can sleep in, this morning she wants to put all the tender loving care into these lunches. Her dad has noticed, he’s eyeing her down from the living room as he has his morning cereal and she knows he wants to ask.

“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” Her voice is just loud enough for him to shoot her a listening glance.

“Oh, but you’re making him a sandwich?”

“You should see his apartment complex,” her expression drops, “ and after the way he devoured dinner last night, I just knew he hasn’t been taken care of in forever. And he’s so nice?”

He smiles, “your mom did the same thing for me.”

“You’ve never told me the story,” she reminds him.

He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter so they can look at each other. His expression is soft, he’s an overly kind man and it was the thing she loved most about him.

“Your grandfather and I worked at a company making refrigerators, I was new to the state and had nothing and so he brought me home for dinner,” he smiles at the memory.

“Her parents got divorced soon after and her mom was having trouble with the bills so I moved in and I helped, and every morning your mom woke up and she made me a sandwich as a thank you.”

“Oh,” she smiled at the recollection, they really were having the same little love story. “Well, I’m thinking about making fish for dinner, would you ask Chip if he likes it? I’ve invited him over for dinner after all his shifts with you.”

He laughs in a huff, he’s proud of her— and himself. He finally found a good one for her.

—

She outdoes herself for dinner. The food is amazing, the table is set, and she’s all dolled up for him. Her dad thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t mind being the third wheel, they all talk to each other like he’s been having dinner with them for years.

He helps clean up after dinner and her dad falls asleep watching Jeopardy in the living room like normal. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back while he’s still doing the dishes, he’s still all sweat from work but she doesn’t care, she wants to give him a hug.

“What’s this for?” He whispers, placing a wet hand over hers on his stomach.

“Do I need a reason to hug you?” She counters.

“No,” he turns around in her grip so that he can give her a real hug. Wet hands on her back and everything.

She held him there, leaning against him as he leaned against the sink. His heartbeat was quick and he still smelled like sawdust and hard work, but he was warm and soft and it felt so right to just be there.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?”

“I will be for the rest of the month,” he confirms her hopes; he was going to be around often.

“Would it be alright if I asked you to stay the night?” She whispers incredibly soft for only him to hear.

He nods against her before taking her hand and leading her outside to the porch. They close the house door softly and then she’s back in his arms, “are you sure?”

She looks up at him and he’s even more beautiful today than he was yesterday, “I can take you back to your place to get some things? It would be nice to send you off to work in the morning.”

“You’ve decided that I’m yours now, haven’t you?” He teased her with a smile, perfectly fine with that.

She nods again, “you could move in tomorrow if you wanted, I’m not sure what’s possessed me to take you in like this, but I really don’t want to let you go.”

He delicately places his hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a kiss, it’s soft and short and he’s quick to look at her again.

“You can have me,” he whispers, “forever, if you want.”

It makes her laugh, “that's the sweetest con you know, you promise yourself to me forever and yet you have no idea if you can stay that long.”

He nods in agreement, “what if I promise my hardest to stay?”

“Okay,” she smiles again, leaning forward and kissing him again, finally.

—

The month is coming to an end and he’s slept beside her almost every single night, and even with that, they’re still taking it slow. They go on dates on the weekends, they make out in her car, he drives her to work, she kisses him at the door every morning he stays with them and they’ve done almost everything but have sex together.

They didn’t feel the need to yet, everything that was leading up to it was fun and interesting. She’s enjoyed sneaking around with him to get each other off back and forth, like an adult game of tag.

She’d blow him in the car on the way back to his apartment after dinner, or he’d come and pick her up after a shift at the diner only for them to end up making out in by the back door, and his hand always ended up in her panties. It was an interesting month of getting to know each other, but she wanted more now.

Her dad is going out of town on a fishing trip with his buddies this weekend, she’s booked time off and Chip has no idea what is in store for him. She plans a dinner, she gets all dressed up for him, there are candles and music and it’s perfect.

He’s amazed by the whole thing and she can really tell he’s been mostly alone for his whole life, he looks at a simple home-cooked meal like it was a million dollars and he was beyond grateful for everything. He almost cries he’s so thankful for the time and effort she puts into taking care of him.

He goes to pick up the plates and bring them to the kitchen as soon as their meal is over, “ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up for you?” Chip answers with a nervous tone that she hasn’t heard before.

“Don’t you want dessert?”

“I can bring it out for you, stay there,” he offers and then frowns when she stands anyway.

“You’re looking at it,” she whispers as she enters his space.

She takes the dishes from his hands and places them on the counter before wrapping her arms around him, “my dad isn’t going to be home until Sunday night.”

“Oh,” he whispers back before his hands reach for her ass and he’s picking her up.

Her legs wrap around his waist and she grips his shoulders for dear life as he hurries them up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

He’s incredibly strong for such a skinny guy, although he was filling out the longer he knew her. He makes it up the stairs and through her door as she gets a head start at kissing his neck until he has her pressed against the door.

“What’s with you and doors?” She teases as he rests her back on her feet, she draws him in closer to her so their chests are pressed together and she can look up into those sweet honey brown eyes.

“I’m just impatient.”

“Too bad, baby,” she teases, “I’m making you take your time with me tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded with a smirk, “I’m here to please you,” he whispered as he leaned in more.

Attaching his lips to her neck he kissed towards her ear, “to thank you,” he took a fistful of her hair and moved it out of the way before kissing down towards her shoulder. “To show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

She pushed him back enough to get Chip to stop kissing her neck, instead, pressing her lips against his. Kissing him deeply before running her tongue across Chip’s bottom lip as a request to make out with him.

Making out with Chip was something she did often, yet it felt like not enough every time. His plump lips and velvety soft tongue, soft touches and rough stubble rubbing against her chin and cheeks.

He smelled like oak after a storm, it was warm and electric and delicious. She dipped her face into the curve of Chip’s neck and took a whiff before attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.

He giggled, his hands her hips now, the pads of his fingers going up and his nails trailing back down over the fabric of her dress, the perfect motion to make the hair on her body stand up.

She reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, separating from his neck so she had room to pull it off of him before reconnected their mouths. Kissing him deeply then pushing him onto the bed, watching Chip get comfortable before she crawled on top.

They wasted no time getting back into the groove of things, tongues clashing and hips grinding, soft moans in each other's mouths, hands roaming everywhere. She reached between them to undo his belt and the button of his jeans so his dick wasn’t rubbing against the zipper. Making out like that was some of the most fun she ever had, she could do it for hours on end.

She pulled back, kneeling above Chip, she grabbed his open belt and pulled it through all the loops and chucked it towards the floor. She massaged her hand over the bulge in his pants as she got closer to his crotch, watching as Chip threw his head back to moan.

She fiddled with the waistband, wanting to pull them down, Chip lifted his ass up ever so slightly for her to do so, she pulled his pants and boxers all the way off and threw them to the floor as well. Spreading Chip’s legs and taking him in her hand, finally. She dipped down ever so slightly and licked the tip and he let out a beautiful cry as his hips bucked. She loved his noises, she loved seeing what new ones she could make and he was more than willing to show her.

Chip gasped and reached out to grip her hair, she took that as an invitation to suck his dick, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, slipping her way down as far as she could go before bobbing back up. It was slow and sensual, she made sure to cover all of him; jerking what didn’t fit in her mouth, dipping down even further to kiss his balls and suck one into her mouth.

The people she’s been with before had never been reactive, they either gave her praise or roughly directed her deeper and deeper till she choked. Chip was different though, making soft noises that sounded like ‘yes’ and ‘god’, his little gasps and stutters of breath were the cutest things. It just encouraged her to do it more.

She pulled off, looking up at Chip who was just staring at her softly. If she knew anything about giving a blowjob she knew what her face probably looked like.. eyes blown out in passion and lips swollen bright red. It was a sight he loved to see, his hand slipped down to cup her cheek and then down to his chin where he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She crawled back up and sat on his hips, taking the hem of her dress in her hands and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a nice matching underwear set for him, nothing too fancy because she knew it would just end up on the floor anyway.

She leaned back down, attaching their mouths once again, he wrapped his arms around her back and slowly rolled them over safely. Now on top of her, looking up into Chip’s eyes was a blessing. He blinked a few times, making sure it was real and he wasn’t dreaming that the most beautiful girl in the world was looking at him like that.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked gently with pleading eyes that let her know he was desperate to touch her however she pleased.

“Make me yours, Chip.”

“I think you always have been,” he replied.

His beautiful sweaty curls drooping over his eyes, she smiled as she brushed them back. Petting his face softly as she looked at him, he was so beautiful. The light was bouncing off the wall just enough to illuminate him.

“How do you want to do it?” She whispered.

“Let’s just go where the rhythm takes us,” Chip’s voice dropped low as he did, pressing their chests together, close enough to kiss as he rubbed their noses together softly.

She kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in more. He squeezed his arms between her back and the mattress, wrapping himself around her. he decided to reach into her panties with his free hand.

He took a moment to admire her chest, she had caught him staring before. He constantly used them as a pillow, he wanted to touch them so badly, so she leaned forward and let him unhook her bra. Pulling it from her body and towards the floor.

She could sense his hesitation, taking both his hands off her sides and guiding them to her breasts. He whimpered as he felt them, she closed her eyes at the feeling. A small moan escaping her lips as he groped her. His big hands felt amazing, so strong and gentle, rough and yet soothing. Perfection against her skin.

She leaned back against the bed then, leaving him sitting up on her hips. Her boobs flattening out into a funny shape as she laid back, making her smirk in embarrassment. Only making Chip love them more, diving in and kissing the newly exposed skin.

He dragged his bottom lip over her skin between kisses. Leaving a trail of where he’s been already. She had a hand in his hair, holding it out of his face as she watched him.

Panting as she tried to grind up against him, the arousal in her core was overpowering. She needed to feel more, she wanted all of him. She was addicted to him already, hoping she’ll have forever with him.

She was too hot, feeling the sweat gather behind her knees as she tried to find more friction against him. She didn’t mind all the exploring he was doing, it was a wonderful appetizer, but she was nowhere close to being full.

He pulled back then to sit on his knees between her legs before Chip slowly slipped her underwear off. Raising her hips softly before resting her ass back in his lap and spreading her legs.

Fully on display for him, she played with her nipples slightly. Knowing how much he loved her boobs, watching her with a slack jaw as his hands ran up her legs.

He snapped back into the moment when she pushed her ass down against him, a whimper slipping past his lips as he placed his thumb on her clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves.

With his pointer finger, on the other hand, he traced around her entrance, not pushing in, just exploring the wetness as it dripped out. She tightened up on command, seeing his breath hitch as his finger almost slipped in.

“Please?” She begged, arching her back more so that he could finger her.

“Can we try something?��

“Yeah,” she nodded, resting on her forearms as she leaned forward.

“If I lay back would you, um,” he couldn’t say the words. They felt too filthy leaving his mouth, pointing at his face instead.

She sat up then, pushing him back against the pillows and settling herself over his chest and gripping the headboard for support, Chip wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her forward more.

Her legs were already trembling in anticipation as she hovered over his face, feeling his breath right on her core, Without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she smacked her forehead against the blocked window behind her bed, hoping to god no one could see through the blinds.

He pushed one finger in as his tongue played with her clit. She couldn’t help rocking her hips against his face, helping him get deeper inside of her. He curled his finger, lightly fucking her with it as he sucked, licked, kissed her pussy.

She was a mess, shaking over top of him as she tried to keep her orgasm in. Not wanting to cum yet, wanting to feel all of him inside of her before she did that. So he added a second finger, making her cry out in pleasure against the window without even trying.

Her orgasm ripped through her as she fucked his face, holding his hair with one hand as the other steadied her on the headboard. She couldn’t believe how intense it was, almost knocking the wind out of her as she road it out on his tongue.

He smiled against her, kissing her clit once more before pulling out and helping her back towards his lap. She wasted no time hovering over his cock as it strained on his stomach.

“Do you want to?” She asked, trying to control her breathing but still looking like a panting mess as she anticipated him.

“I’ll always want you,” he assures her with the sweetest smile.

She wraps her arms around him and rolls them over once more, he adjusts between her legs and drags himself along her overstimulated clit, she shudders at the feeling and then laughs at her own reaction.

“Ready?” He whispered.

She nodded, feeling Chip push in, she reached for his hands where they rested on her hips and interlocked their fingers. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her, bringing their interlocked hands over her head.

She reached up to kiss him, Chip pushing into the kiss and making her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, a first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth.

Chip trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Chip’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine as Chip ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.

Chip changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. Y/N, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Chip’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.

“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.

“Yeah,” Chip moaned, dark and deep.

The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire.

The hairs on her arms stood up, goosebumps formed along his forearms. Chip kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.

“Chip,” she panted, pulling Chip’s face back up to his.

His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those golden wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Chip’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressing together, hot air on each other's faces as they panted to the pleasure.

She was in heaven.

Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Chip whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.

She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Chip fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her g-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.

She was so close, Chip used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt it before.

Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Chip’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.

A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into her’s one last time.

She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Chip had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight laying on her.

Chip mustered enough energy to prop himself upon his arm and look at her. Using his free hand he ran his thumb against her bottom lip once more to get her to open her eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, smile growing, “that was amazing.”

“Better than you hoped?”

“I’ve thought of doing this for the last month, I knew it would be amazing but I never imagined it would be that good.” she complimented Chip, “I think I died when I came, no joke.”

He laughed, dropping himself back into the crook of her neck. He kissed her more, up to her ear and across her jaw to her lips. Soft small kissed followed by a long-drawn-out one. Chip pulled their lips apart with a smack.

“Let me clean us up,” he said.

At that moment she realized Chip was still in her, soft and all. He pulled out slowly it was always such a weird feeling to be empty again. He sat up and made his way off the bed, he went to her bathroom.

Coming back still naked, his dick bobbing between his legs, she loved the view. He had a thing of baby wipes with him, knowing exactly where she kept everything in her bathroom by now.

“I can do it,” she suggested, reaching for them.

Chip pulled them back away from her, “I want to.” he said softly.

Running the cold wipe over her soft skin, Chip looked mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she replied with a shy smile, “can you come back up here now?”

He tossed the wipes onto her night table and cuddled right back into her naked body, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn’t escape. She knew he wouldn’t, but she loved him so much she never wanted to let go.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, pulling back so she could see his face as he looked up at her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you walked in and said I was beautiful.”

He reaches for her cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m going to love you forever.”

The words used to scare her, but now she looks at him and thinks they might be right for them.

“Forever it is, then.”

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sgstories123 · 3 years ago

Text

“Always use condoms”

Marc was watching Squid Game, a Korean drama, with his wife on Netflix in the living room of his flat when he heard someone at the door.

“Hi, Uncle and Auntie!”

His tenant, Sophie, greeted them as she entered the flat with her boyfriend. Sophie is from China. She came to Singapore to study at a nearby university and had been their tenant for a couple of months. Marc did not liked to be called ‘Uncle’ as it made him sound old. He is in his late thirties and only about 15 years older than Sophie who is in her early twenties. Still, Sophie had caught on to Singapore norms and had called everyone ‘Uncle’ and ‘Auntie’.

Marc watched as Sophie led her boyfriend to her room.

“Hey, stop looking at them.” His wife whispered loudly at him. “You know what they are going to do next, right.”

Marc nodded. It seems that Sophie and her boyfriend had only got to know each other recently but already, Sophie had brought him back several times. Marc could not remember his name but knew that he was a Singaporean studying in the same university. Every time Sophie brought him back to the flat, they will go to her room and have sex. It was not that Marc or his wife were eavesdropping. It was simply that the walls of HDB flats are too thin and Sophie was really loud when she is having sex. She will be moaning and screaming words of passion throughout. Marc and his wife did not really know how to tell Sophie to keep her volume down without feeling embarrassed. They could only pretend that it did not bother them or they did not even realise what was happening in Sophie’s room. Sophie was after all a good tenant in other aspects, paying her rent on time. Where possible, Marc and his wife will leave the flat to avoid the awkward situation.

“Ok, I think I will go fetch our son from my parents.” His wife got up from the sofa. “You want to go with me?”

“No. I think I will stay and watch the show.” Marc responded. He really did not want to visit his in-laws if possible. They only stay a few blocks away and had helped to look after their 1-year old son during the day, but they were always nagging at him for one thing or another.

“Well, don’t stay in the house. Leave the young people alone.” His wife gave him a hard stare. “Don’t be a pervert and listen to people having sex. You are too old for that.”

Marc sighed. He cannot understand why everyone thinks he is old. Ever since his wife got pregnant a couple of years ago, they had stopped having sex. When his wife was pregnant, she did not want to have sex because she was afraid that it will harm the unborn baby. And when she had given birth, she was always complaining that she was too tired to have sex. But what made him upset the most was that his wife seemed to have decided that once they had a baby, he was too old to be having sex. As a result, he had only been jerking off to satisfy his sexual needs. He envied Sophie’s boyfriend as Sophie seemed to enjoy sex so he must have lots of it.

“Don’t say things like that to your husband. I going down later to buy cigarettes and have beer with my friends. I will most probably come home late. Don’t wait up for me.” Marc replied angrily.

His wife did not even bother answering and minutes later, left the flat.

Marc sighed. Maybe it was his fault. If he had not stopped using condoms after they got married, they would not have a son and he may still have a sex life. Well, that is one lesson learnt too late. Always use a condom, as they say in the advertisements.

Marc flipped through several movies on Netflix quickly. He did not want to continue watching Squid Game as he knows that his wife will want to resume from where she has stopped. He did not want to upset his wife if possible.

“You sure you need to leave now?” He heard Sophie’s voice followed by her room door opening.

“Yeah, they got stuck at the project and need me to work on it. Sorry. The deadline is tomorrow. I call you later.” Her boyfriend responded before stepping out of the flat. “Bye, Uncle”.

Marc winced at the word.

Sophie closed the front door and plopped down besides Marc. “What are you watching? Porn?”

“There is no porn on Netflix.” Marc laughed. “Well, maybe R21, if you consider that as porn.”

“That’s boring. Want to go to my room and watch porn with me?” Sophie glanced at Marc slyly. “Uncle?”

Marc smiled. He knew Sophie was quite open-minded and they often joked about sexual matters. “Why? Your boyfriend did not satisfy you? You need porn?” He retorted.

Sophie pouted. “That idiot. We were having sex. He was already making me so wet and then his friends must call him and ask him to do their stupid project.” Sophie turned round to face Marc. “Maybe you want to take his place? I am so ready.”

Marc was taken back by surprise. They have never gone so far with their jokes. Is she serious?

Sophie leaned forward and put her head on his shoulder. With one hand wrapped around his neck for support, her other hand rested on his chest, her fingers making small circles around his nipples. “What do you say?” She purred seductively.

Marc was a little confused but clearly, his lower body was not. He could feel his cock rising and making a tent in his shorts.

Sophie leaned further and kissed Marc on his cheeks. She turned his head towards her and kissed Marc again, this time on his lips. As Marc tasted the sweet, young succulent lips, his resistance started falling away. He felt himself floating and no longer in control of his actions. His arms wrapped around Sophie, feeling the warmth of the young body through her t-shirt. Sophie gave a short moan and grabbed Marc’s cock with her hands.

“Oh my God! You are so big and hard.” Sophie gushed. She rubbed his cock through his shorts, stroking it slowly and making small little circles around the tip of his cock with her fingertips. Marc sighed in pleasure.

Sophie stopped kissing Marc and looked at her fingers. It was wet with March’s pre-cum. “You are also wet.” She giggled. “Fuck me?”

“No, we an’t do this. My wife will be back soon.” A momentary sense of reason came back to Marc.

“Then let’s go to my room. Let’s make porn instead of watching porn.” Sophie giggle again before standing up and pulling Marc to her room.

Sophie closed the door behind them before first taking off her top and then sliding off her shorts. Marc was surprised. “You were not wearing bra or panties?”

Sophie smiled. “I told you we were having sex. I had to put on a tee shirt and shorts before going out of the room. Don’t talk so much. Take off your clothes.”

Marc was still standing there, unsure of what to do. He knew this was getting to a point of no return. Sophie did not wait for him to make a decision. She kneeled in front of him and pulled down his shorts.

“Oh my God! This is definitely the largest cock I have ever seen.” She exclaimed.

Without another word, she swallowed his cock, wrapping her warm tongue around the whole shaft. With one hand on Marc’s ass and the other holding on to the base of his cock, she started sucking his cock. Her rhythm picked up pace and Marc soon lost all reason and was floating in the pleasure of her efforts. He pushed his hips forward in concert with her sucking and he held on to her head, guiding her to heighten his pleasure.

“I am cumming!” He groaned. Sophie only squeezed his cock harder with both her hands and mouth. He erupted into her, filling her mouth with warm sperm. “Oh my god! That was so good.” He moaned as he felt his cock emptying the last few spurts into Sophie’s mouth.

Sophie swallowed all of Marc’s sperm before licking his now flaccid cock clean. “My god. It was so much. How long was it that you last had sex? This is so good.” Sophie looked up at Marc, seemingly fascinated.

She stood up and kissed Marc on his lips. Marc could taste his own cum on her lips. She stopped her kiss to pull Marc’s t-shirt over his head. Now both of them were naked. Sophie leaned forward to continue her kiss, wrapping one of her bare legs around Marc’s waist. As the naked skins touched, Marc’s cock became hard again.

“Ooh. Looks like you are ready to go again. Let’s fuck.” Sophie commanded. She led Marc to her bed, pushing him down to face the ceiling while she straddled him. She grabbed his cock and stroked it to hardness. Marc closed his eyes to enjoy the hand job and moaned softly in pleasure. He sensed a movement and opened his eyes to see Sophie lowering herself onto his cock.

“Condom. Use a condom.” He managed a hoarse whisper.

Sophie looked surprised. “Are you afraid of catching something from me? I am insulted.”

“No. Just don’t want you to get pregnant. Safer. Always use a condom.” He smiled weakly.

Sophie sighed but seemed pacified. She reached out to the nearby drawer and took out a condom. Expertly, she tore the condom wrapper and withdrew the condom before wrapping it over Marc’s cock. Without missing a beat, she lowered herself onto his cock, guiding it slowly into her love canal. As Marc’s cock filled her cunt, Sophie sighed in pleasure.

“Oh god. You are so big. This is so good.” Sophie moaned. Once she has engulfed Marc’s cock with her cunt, she froze momentarily to allow her pleasure to flow through her body before groaning loudly in pleasure.

Marc was also enjoying himself as his cock was pleasured by the warm tight walls of the young vagina. As Sophie started bouncing on his cock, the pleasure intensified. He held onto Sophie hips, as he watched her breasts bouncing in unison. He tried to sit up and suck on Sophie’s breasts. But after a couple of minutes, Sophie pushed him down on the bed again. She leaned on top of him, forcing his cock to rub more forcefully against her clitoris. Sophie was now lost in her pleasure, screaming vulgarities in her native Mandarin and alternating it with moans of pleasures.

Marc finally understood what went on in Sophie’s room when Sophie was having sex with her boyfriend.

Marc did not hear the front door opened but he heard the Squid Game on Netflix resumed in the living room. His wife must be back. His cock became soft immediately and plopped out of Sophie’s body. Sophie stopped, still holding onto Marc body as she straddled him.

Marc looked up with a worried expression but Sophie simply smiled. She leaned forward and kissed Marc on his lips. As she continued kissing Marc, he could hear his wife moving around the house. He guessed the baby was asleep as there was no noise from his son. His wife seemed to have finally settled down on the sofa in the living room to continue watching her show. As Sophie’s bed was next to the wall where the sofa was leaned against, Marc was literally a wall away from his wife.

“What should we do?” Marc whispered.

“”Continue fucking, what else?” Sophie grinned. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“Are you crazy? My wife is out there. What happens if she finds out?” Marc was exasperated.

“Okay. If you do not want to fuck any more, I guess you can walk out of my room now.” Sophie had an evil glint in her eye. “If you want to stay in this room, you better make me happy.”

Marc was being blackmailed into sex. He felt so powerless and used. Do prostitutes feel this way, he wondered. He knew he had no choice but to continue laying on Sophie’s bed and pretended to want to have sex. He allowed Sophie to continue sucking his cock but with his mind on his wife, he was only semi-hard.

He tried to close his eyes and focus on his pleasure. As long as Sophie is happy fucking him, she will not throw him out of the room. He must not let his wife know that he is fucking Sophie behind her back.

There was a knock on Sophie’s door. “Sophie, are you in there? Can I ask you something?” Marc’s cock grew limp immediately. He is dead. His wife is definitely going to divorce him.

“Yup. Give me a minute.” Sophie gave Marc a smile. “Don’t move and it will be fine. Trust me.”

Marc did not need Sophie to tell him that. He was already frozen in fear.

Sophie got off the bed and walked to the door, naked. She opened the door slightly. Marc could see the legs of his wife but Sophie had blocked her from seeing much into her room.

“Oh. Sorry.” Marc’s wife was embarrassed to see the naked Sophie and looked away.

“Oh, I should be the one to be sorry. I am having sex with my boyfriend and forgot to put on some clothes.” Sophie lied.

“Sorry. I did not know. Sorry to disturb you.” Marc’s wife managed apologetically, still looking away from Sophie.

“No worries. What is it, auntie? What do you want to ask me?” Sophie continued nonchalantly.

“Nothing much. Just wanted to know if you know where my husband is?”

“He might have out. I heard the front door.”

“Oh right. I forgot he mentioned he may go out to meet up with his friends.” Marc’s wife felt silly and sheepish. “Sorry again.”

“It’s okay. We are just resting between fucks.” Sophie replied, before closing her room door. She walked over to Marc triumphantly and lay down beside him, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Marc could feel the bedsheet drenched in perspiration. Was it from their lovemaking earlier or the fear from being found out. He was so relived and so amazed at Sophie’s audacity that he leaned over to kiss her.

“You are getting hard again.” Sophie whispered in Marc’s ear, “Continue fucking?”

Marc did not respond but simply got on top of Sophie. His condom had slipped off and he took another one from the drawer. He put it on quickly on his hard cock and pried open Sophie’s legs. He plunged his cock into her cunt in one stroke, surrounding it once again between the familiar warm walls. He heard his wife still watching the Korean drama in the living room. But now, instead of being afraid of being found out, the thrill of fucking another woman with hid wife separated by only a wall, made his cock even harder and larger. Blood was coursing through his cock making it steel hard. His cock pushed harder against Sophie’s cunt, making it even tighter and more pleasurable. Sophie was enjoying herself too. She was moaning louder and again started screaming expletives passionately.

“Fuck me harder!” She screamed loudly.

Marc was caught up in her passion. He was controlling himself not to make any noise as his wife was just outside the room. But Sophie’s passion was infectious and he threw caution into the wind, allowing himself to grunt and groan loudly to match Sophie’s screams.

He pumped Sophie mercilessly, lifting one of her legs over his shoulders so that he can push even deeper at an angle. Sophie was just screaming in pleasure now, having already orgasmed several times, spraying her love juice all over the bed.

“You are so fucking big!” Sophie screamed again. “I cannot take it any more!”

Marc smiled. He was close to cumming as well. He gave her several deep thrusts before increasing his pace and tilting his cock at an angle to rub Sophie’s clitoris even more roughly.

“Argh!” Sophie cried out as she reached another orgasm. This was followed by a string of Chinese expletives. Marc gave a final thrust and emptied his seed into the waiting condom. He waited till the pleasure has subsided before pulling his cock out of the wet cunt. He pulled off the condom and shoved his cock, still glistening with his sperm into Sophie’s mouth.

“Lick it clean!” He commanded. He was in control now. Sophie crept over on all fours and quietly licked his cock. Marc stroked Sophie’s head, running his fingers through her hair. Yes, he thought to himself. Sophie’s boyfriend is so lucky. Sophie is definitely a good fuck.

Marc heard his wife switching off Netflix and the door to their bedroom closed. His wife must have decided not to wait for him and go to bed first.

Marc’s cock grew hard again. He saw Sophie’s handphone on the table, picked it up and set it up in video mode.

“Now we make porn.” He smiled at Sophie while he reached for another condom.

388 notes · View notes

liquorisce · 3 years ago

Text

bring your love baby (i could bring my shame) - 8

NSFW | Eren x Mikasa | Ao3

Summary: “Good things come to those who wait, Mr Jaeger,” she says, coyly.

He cups her face with his hand and turns her face upwards to him. “... I don’t think either of us wants to wait, M. Am I wrong?”

“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once.”

— Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

He hears her breathing bounce off the walls, harsh, breathy gasps escaping her lips. Her breasts rise and fall in tune with her panting, and he watches with fascination as her head is thrown back, pleasure dissipating slowly as she licks her lips.

Her hand lies limp near his face, where she’d previously tugged hard on his hair, whimpers and pleas to never stop, pressing him closer to her sweet centre. He thinks of the way she cried in front of him, shame and fear and everything ugly that made her afraid of her own pleasure. It’s such a contrast to the woman in front of him now, so lost to the sensation of her own body that she’s barely able to recover. It mesmerizes him, all the different sides of her he is allowed to see, the untouchable woman on the pole, the self-possessed beauty who sat in front of him the first time and asked him “what can I do for you Mr Jeager?”

It makes him want to flip her on her knees, and whisper in her ear, to ask her what he could do for her as he relishes the abandon on her features, and eats up the melancholy on her lips. Desire pulses through him, thick and heavy in his veins as he thinks of it, his mouth watering at the sight of her- and it makes the itch in his mouth return.

Greed, he thinks, that’s got to be what it is, there’s no other way he can describe the way he shamelessly nips his way across her inner thighs, revelling in the way she squirms beneath him, gasps and moans that only urge him on further. It’s as if he can’t help himself; he laps at her slit eagerly, tongue flicking at her clit and also within the depths of her, tasting her without the intention of pleasure, but more for himself.

She’s sensitive, so fucking sensitive, he can feel her soft flesh quiver underneath his tongue but also under his hands, her body so so pliant for him. “Please,” she whimpers, but her hands are still in his hair, and she sounds so precious, so deliciously fragile, there’s something within him that makes him want to go deeper, to taste all of her, to consume the flavour of her body’s pleasure whole.

He licks it without any particular rhythm, sighing into her weeping cunt, lifting her ass up to him, the way he finds comfortable. And when he’s done gobbling up every drop that she had to offer him, he licks his way down her crevice, all the way from her ass to her clit.

He’s rewarded with the most beautiful, pleasure-soaked moan he’s ever heard, and if he could he’d make it his mission to hear that every day and night. “Ere..h,” she breathes shakily, and he hums against her wet, messy pussy, the vibrations tickling her. She arches against him, unable to help herself, making the softest, sweetest sounds.

She tastes like nothing he’s ever known in his life, nothing he’s ever imagined, except maybe a new, heady, addiction. That’s got to be it, he thinks, drunk on the juices of her, that’s got to be the reason he craves her like he does- like a drug in his bloodstream that he cannot get enough of.

So he eats her up, exactly the way he promised, teeth and tongue and lips, and the faint stubble of his chin scraping against her overstimulated pussy, until she begs again, “Please, Mr Jaeger,” - and he doesn’t care that she regresses to formality, it feels intimate from her lips, private almost - “Stop,” she sobs, “... please.”

He does, immediately, shocked by the desperation in her voice. “God, I’m sorry, did I,” - he looks at her with guilt-ridden eyes, his mouth red and the wetness of her cunt shimmering across his chin. He’d meant to ask if he’d hurt her, if he’d done something that didn’t feel good, where he should have stopped just like he’d promised, but instead he’d been too lost in her perfect body to even take notice.

She looks at him with watery, dazed eyes and whimpers, “... It’s too much. I can’t take it.”

And just like that, his mouth goes dry again. He’s struck with the urge to say things he’s never said before, to bury his face in her cunt and make her give him one more orgasm and show her that she really can take it, she’s so good, of course, she can- but instead, he ignores the desert in his throat and his rock-hard erection and says, “... Too much? It felt that good, huh?”

She blushes, long wisps of straight black hair matted to her sweaty forehead, her crimson lipstick bitten and smudged. “... I’ve never,” she looks at him honestly, dazed grey irises blinking up at him. “... felt that way… with someone else before.”

Swallowing painfully, he thanks whichever God is watching for the fact that he is fully clothed, and his dick is tucked away out of sight, so it doesn’t assume some irreverent importance in this situation. So before it can cause any problems for him, he pulls away from her, mumbling, “... Maybe we should get some fresh air.”

The view from Eren’s apartment is a thing of beauty. The lights of the inner city gleam with colour, gold and pink and a dash of red if you look carefully, far enough into the interior. Rows of winding canals with the old leaning houses and their pretty reflections, and the little bikes adorning every corner.

He’s seen this view every day for months now, and every time he looked at it, he’d allow himself to be a little lost, to feel enamoured with the secrets of the city that he’d tried to call home but had swallowed him whole. This time he has something else to distract him, and he watches her from the corner of his eye, watches the way she holds the joint in her hands, the way her lips purse around the stick as she brings it to his mouth.

It doesn’t help the situation in his pants, the one that the cold air doesn’t take care of, his emptying whiskey glass only taking him further down the thought spiral of how he would like himself sliding between his lips like that-

“... You always have some on hand, huh?” He blurts out, desperate for some small talk. He’d lived 28 years of his life without blatantly sexually objectifying the women he meets, surely he could manage ten minutes of keeping his brain out of the gutter.

She looks at her joint, amused. “... Easier than carrying that whiskey decanter around, I suppose.”

It’s a familiar look again, the look of a woman who’s in control, but he sees the crumple of her dress, the fragility of her expression, and he recognises the dimensions he hasn’t seen before.

She shivers, and he notices. Reaching for his coat, he asks, “... Does the smoke keep you warm?” He puts it around her shoulders, but his hands linger at his elbows, his body close to hers.

“A little.” She leans back against him, slightly, her back to his front, hair brushing against his chest. He lets his chin rest in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of her, smoky and pungent. “... Like your drink, I suppose.”

He inhales deeply before taking another sip. And for a moment he feels bad about it. It’s part of his every day now, when he thinks of her, when he thinks of his ex, when he thinks of how he knows genetically he has a weakness to liquor and it still doesn’t stop him. “... I think I have a problem,” he confesses, breath heavy with whiskey.

“... Maybe you do,” she agrees, turning towards him, slowly taking away his glass.

He looks at her indignantly, before reaching for her joint. “So do you,” he murmurs, taking it between her fingers.

Her eyes flicker at him as he takes her joint and stubs it out. “... Maybe I do,” she breathes, and when he moves towards her again, her lips move to capture his.

He lets her press herself against him, her body unfurling against his, her breath warm in his mouth.

She’s such an addictive taste in his mouth, a drug, the kind that takes over his sense and lets him think of nothing else. He feels it in the few minutes when he watched her from afar, how his mind burned with questions, with guilt, with what-ifs. It was an absurdity by this point but Eren was a simple man- he wanted her with the kind of certainty that bore no rhyme nor reason- but seeing her in a home that no longer felt like his, a room that bore the stamp of someone who wasn’t here, felt wrong.

Historia was in everything around him, the cream paint on the walls, the couch he’d eaten her out on, the expensive shirt that M tugged on when she kissed him. It’s a nausea that lives under his skin, something that refuses to get out of him.

Yet, the more he presses against her, the less he remembers any of it. M rests her hand loosely on the nape of his neck and presses her breasts against him as she kisses him and he lets her; he lets her tongue slide into his mouth that tasted of her and lick the raging thoughts away, filling his mind and his body with something else entirely- a terrifying intoxication that he was dying to submit to.

His hands wind low on her hips, curving around her ass, pressing her close against him without any regard for the erection that presses through her satin dress. It rests against her abs, perfectly toned from the way she works it, and it makes him groan into her mouth. He pulls away, grasping her chin harshly as he forces some distance between them. “... I thought you wanted to stop.”

She licks her lips fetchingly. “But you,”- her eyes dart to his crotch, and he feels his cheeks burn- “... You didn’t get a chance to feel good.”

He runs a thumb across her lower lip, saliva sticky on his skin. “It’s not a transaction, M. I felt plenty good going down on you…” And god knows he would have done it longer, if she’d let him. “You look so fucking good when you come, I think I could watch you forever.”

He thinks about that for a moment, pushing her just a little bit more, watching her come over and over again even though she thinks this pretty body couldn’t handle it. He tips her chin up so can look into her glazed eyes. “... But I bet people tell you that all the time, huh.” The words are out of his mouth before he can even stop to consider what he’s saying. It’s a nonsensical double standard; the way he’s paid to watch her before but the idea of anyone else seeing her like this makes him see red.

“I told you already,” she says, voice hoarse, “... I can’t, I’ve never.” Her cheeks bleed with shame. “... Never with anybody else.”

Maybe it’s the fantasy of it that’s hard to believe, because he murmurs gruffly, “... Not even in the club? The way you did for me that day?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking her this, it’s none of his business, nor his right to care, but it feels as irrational as the fact that he brought another woman home to his wife’s house.

She should protest with the way he asks her this, like he has some ownership over it. But she only shakes her head shyly, unable to meet the heat in her eyes when she says, “... Never.”

It’s embarrassing how much he likes that fact- like this was something of hers that belonged to him and only him. He pushes backwards until she’s nestled against the wall, “But you’ve been with many others, haven’t you, M?”

She turns away embarrassed, defiant. “More than you’ve been with, Mr Jaeger.”

It isn’t the retort that she’d aimed for it to be. There’s a flicker of pride in his eyes, and it teases the existent desire inside of him. “... And you teased all of them this way, huh?”

“... Is that how you feel? That I’m teasing you?”

It’s an absurd question. It feels as if that’s all she’s been from the moment he first laid his eyes on her. Teasing his attention, his emotions, his blatant hunger. “I didn’t think I was teasing, earlier,” her voice is choked, her bangs hiding her eyes, as she diverts her gaze to the pretty skyline beside them. “Sounded more like begging, if I’m to be honest.”

“Teasing or begging,” he confesses, “... I liked it.” So much. The way she looks at him, with honesty the way her words seldom are, the way her body thrust into his mouth, the whimpers- he loved all of it.

“Then let me beg properly,” she murmurs, tilting her forehead against his. “... Let me make you feel good.” She kisses the side of his mouth, “... Let me make you feel the way you made me feel.”

And before he can say much more, she drops to her knees, pretty grey eyes looking up at him like stars. “Please?”

So, before he can combust purely from his overactive imagination, he nods, licking his suddenly dry lips. She opens his zipper in a practiced motion, extracting his cock from his pants, and letting it spring to erection before her.

It’s a shameless sight, and he shivers as the cold air of Central Sina hits his skin, but the look in her eyes, somewhat taken aback, but mostly intoxicated as she wraps her hand around his length.

She jerks him like she knows what she’s doing, bending over his cock, her breath warm on his tip before using her spit to lube him up. Tilting her head up, she catches his entranced gaze, like smouldering leaves, as she strokes him slick, his cock jerking embarrassingly into her hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes, as she sets a rhythm, practiced, her grip just perfect, the sight of her lush breasts from above turning him on even further. “Pull it lower,” he rasps, “... your dress. I want to see your tits.”

Her eyes sparkle in the moonlight. He’s always been so proper with her, even with his head buried in her cunt, even with his fingers inside of her- It had always been ‘Please’ and ‘Whatever you like,’ but she can’t say she had never suspected (or fantasized) about this side of him. The slightly rougher side, the one that looked at her like a starved man, desperate for whatever she’d give him.

She pulls her dress lower just as he asks, her bra cupping her breasts temptingly before she lowered those cups as well. He runs his teeth over his lower lip as he watches her, as he sees her nipples harden froma the cold air. “Don’t stop what you were doing,” he reminds her, as if she could forget his rock-hard erection that hovered right at her cheek.

“Good things come to those who wait, Mr Jaeger,” she says, coyly, reaching for her nipples and playing with them, relishing the way his eyes darken.

He cups her face with his hand and turns her face upwards to him. “... I don’t think either of us want to wait, M. Am I wrong?”

It makes her flush crimson, down her neck and till the tips of her breasts. He tugs her gently towards her cock, and her lips part for his length, tongue laving along the length of his underside.

He hums in satisfaction, eyes closing for a brief second as she takes him in and sucks, hard. His hand glides to the back of her neck, positioning it where he can guide her, murmuring, “... Your mouth feels like heaven.”

She flushes at the compliment, using her mouth the way she knows how to, the way she’s learnt through all her mistakes, through all her lost endeavours in the name of finding love. She takes in all the appreciative sighs, the groans, the way his cock twitches in her mouth, using her technique perfectly but she isn’t prepared for his candour, the way he talks about her, the way he presses her head down on his cock like he can’t help himself, as he mumbles, “So fucking warm, just like your pussy.”

His words pour straight into her bloodstream, like a potent hit, burning under her skin. Makes her wonder if she could make him feel this good even with her pussy. Tears sting her eyes as she takes him in as far as she can go, trying not to struggle around the length of him; trying not to think of all the times she’s pleasured men with her mouth just so she wouldn’t have to disappoint them with her cunt.

He slips out of her suddenly, a strand of saliva lingering between her lips and his tip. She wipes it with her palm as she catches her breath, looking up at him. “You’re distracted,” he says, roughly. “... What else is on your mind, babe?”

And before she can answer, he slips into her mouth again, smoothly, just shy of hitting the back of her throat. He let’s her catch her breath around him, bob up and down on her own pace. He caresses the side of her cheek as she works him so good, voice rough as he tells her, almost possessed, “I don’t want anything else on your mind when you’re with me.” And then he holds her head in place and thrusts into her mouth, in and out, as she adjusts to him, gasping, taken a back by the change in demeanour.

A part of him knows he’s being careless, irrational, but he doesn’t want her practiced techniques, no matter how good they feel. He doesn’t want anything she learnt from anybody else, doesn’t want anything else in her pretty head when she has his cock in her mouth. So he fucks her mouth the way he likes it- she likes it too, he thinks, he hopes, because he can hear her moan softly and it’s like an aphrodisiac. He fucks her mouth in a shallow way, careful not to make her gag but fast, in and out till she is panting, pushing back and begging for breath. His cock glistens with her saliva, hard and pulsing, but he pulls back, eyes dark as he murmurs, “... Sorry, was I too rough with you?”

She’s so confused by the change, but when she looks at him, she realises she’s stupid to be. He looks at her with concern, with hunger, the same way he’s always looked at her, like there was always this animal hungering beneath his silk shirts and trousers. “I,”- rough, maybe, but her soaked panties tell her that she likes it, “... no, it was…,” she licks her lips. “Good.”

His fears dissipate when she leans towards his cock, aching to have him in her mouth again, but he grabs her cheeks before she can take him in again, savouring for a moment the sight of her, on her knees, with her tits out, mouth eager for him. And with a titan’s strength, he pulls back and says, softly, “... Get up.”

She stiffens, “But you haven’t,” -

“Anymore of this pretty mouth and I’ll be finished in seconds.” He wipes the saliva from the side of her lips, before pulling her to her feet and towards the little diwan on the corner of the balcony. “And I’m not finished with you yet… not for a long time.”

He sinks down on the cushions, and tugs on her hand to follow, but she looks down at him hesitantly. “Are you sure? I can,”- her voice is shaky, “... Let me make you come.”

He gets on his knees, threading his fingers into hers, as he meets her anxious gaze. “I want you to, God, I want it to so bad,” he confesses, “... but not with your mouth.” He cups her panties, soaked again, and his voice grows hoarse as he realises just how wet she is. “I want you to make me come with this.”

He slips a finger into her gently, swirling inside of her and groaning. “... Can you do that for me, babe? Please?”

And God, the way he looks at her, she doesn’t think she’d be able to deny him anything. So nervously, she sinks on to her knees on the plush linen cushions, and lowers herself on his straining dick. He groans as he feels her, drenched satin panties against his thobbing erection as she rubs against him tentatively.

His hands make their home on her hips, raking her dress up so her ass cheeks were exposed. A strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety thrums between her legs, but she grinds down on him, using her hips the way she’s done numerous times, for numerous men, and a small part of her thinks maybe she can bring him to climax just like this. She’s definitely done it once before. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to know- he would feel good, just the way she’d felt because of him, and he’d never find out. She’d orgasmed from his touch, but penetration was another thing entirely, it had never worked, it had never felt good, and if she gets him off now, she’d never have to see that frustrated, displeased look they always got when her body refused to comply-

“Hey,” he murmurs, nipping gently on her lower lip. “You’re lost again.”

She steadies her breathing, tries to look at him seductively, working her hips down on him faster. “... No, I just… Lost in how good it feels, that’s all.” And she gives him a small smile.

He narrows his eyes at her; runs a thumb along her lower lip. “Yeah? Are you lying to me?”

She flinches, pulling back, but he wraps his arms around her hips tightly. “... If you don’t want to do this, tell me.”

“Whatever you’re feeling tell me,” he begs, softly, loosening his grip. “... But please, for the love of God, don’t look at me like you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not,” she whispers, cupping his cheeks in her hands- because how could she be? He’d treated her with so much care, with so much reverence and passion, she just couldn’t bear to be looked at any differently. “... I’m not afraid of you. You… You’ve been so good to me…”

“Then what is it, M? If you’re not… feeling it,” he swallows, trying to forget how wet she’d felt against his fingers just seconds ago. “... We don’t have to. It’s exactly what I said before,” -

“I’m just afraid of myself,” she whispers softly, and she doesn’t have the strength to put it into words any more than this. So she pulls her panties to the side and sinks down on to his cock, wincing at the pain that she knew was inevitable.

His head goes blank, pupils blown from the sheer feeling. He groans, the feeling of her simply exquisite around him, like a glove, warm and wet, and so fucking perfect- until he hears her whimper in pain.

“... M?” He breathes, concerned. Her hands clutch his neck, eyes screwed shut in concentration, as she lets herself settle on top of him. “What are you, oh-”

He’s cut off with a moan, her hips rocking against him, sucking him deeper with every sway. She feels like the sweetest oblivion, the stuff of poetry, if he was that type of guy, but all he feels is like the worst type of asshole, because he’s in some kind of paradise, and the incredibly gorgeous woman on his dick looks like she’s about to cry. “Stop,” he gasps, “... For fuck’s sake, your obviously in pain, just stop,”- and he chokes almost, because the more she moves against him, the more he wants to forget it and rut into her mindlessly.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Is all she asks him, and he has no way to deny that it feels probably like the best thing he’s ever had in his life.

He rests his forehead into the nape of her neck. “Like fucking heaven,” he mumbles, his fingers dipping between her legs, reaching for her nub.

“Babe,” he whispers, his breath hot on her shoulder. “Stop, stop moving, please. For one second.”

“Why,” a twinge of panic seeps into her voice, “... You… don’t like it?”

He grabs her hips forcefully and stills her. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good in my life,” he says honestly. “... But I don’t like that you seem to be in pain.”

“I… I tried to tell you,” she says, shakily. Tries to laugh it off. “My body doesn’t exactly work like it’s supposed to.”

He rubs circles into her hips absentmindedly, doing his best to breathe in and out, and not lose his fucking mind, because he was still sheathed tightly inside of her. “Yeah? And how is it supposed to work?”

“Are you… mocking me? You know what I mean,” -

“No I don’t,” he rests his hand on the curve of her waist, thumbs brushing against her abs. “... You keep telling me something’s wrong with you, and I can’t see it.” He looks at her reverently. “Honestly I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite so perfect in my life.”

Her cheeks burn, self-consciousness almost choking her. She can see her own reflection in his bright eyes, but she doesn’t see what he sees. “You’re wrong.”

Frustrated tears sting behind her eyes. “This is where it always goes wrong. This stupid pain, and this stupid fucking body, it never listens,” -

“Is it hurting you?” He asks quietly, “... Am I hurting you?”

“No, it’s not you,” -

“Where does it hurt, babe?”

She takes a deep breath, biting back the tears that well up in her throat, the sheer mortification of having this man so deep inside her- just like she wanted- and still suffering over something that cannot be fixed. “Inside, it stings, when you enter,” -

“What I did earlier, did it hurt you?”

“N-No.”

He wets his thumb with his saliva, generously, and slips it down between her legs. “Don’t move, okay? I want you to try and feel comfortable.” And he glides his slick finger over her clit- once, twice, until he sees the tell-tale shiver, run along her body, her eyes glazing over. He withdraws and spits on his finger, wanting as much lubrication as possible before applying a little more pressure.

He’s rewarded with a little whimper, but a different-sounding one than before. “You feel okay?”

She nods, tentatively. “And you?”

He laughs, ironically. “How do you think I feel?” He ups the pressure, his fingers moving haphazardly, these motions totally unpracticed. She moans, and he can feel how good she feels, feels it in the way she squeezes around his dick. “You’re, fuck,”- He has to bite back his own groan, smothering it against her collarbone- “... dripping all over my cock.”

His words make her feel dirty, dripping into her skin, her bones… but it makes her feel redeemed. She searches his face for the tell-tale signs of disappointment, of frustration, but she doesn’t find it. Eren looks at her the same way he always has- hungry, desirous and openly desperate. It makes her feel molten inside. Maybe she doesn’t have to worry, she thinks, she’ll never feel dry or devoid of pleasure in his arms, his gaze is enough to make her liquid with heat.

“Take off your dress,” he rasps, breaking her out of her reverie. “... I’ll keep you warm.”

She lets out a shaky laugh before she lifts her dress over her head. “I already feel like I’m on fire, Mr Jaeger.”

“I can feel it,” he murmurs, “Feels like you’re fucking burning me from the inside.” His eyes linger on her bare breasts, the way her bra pushes it up towards him- almost like an offering. He tilts his gaze towards hers. “Your bra, too. Take it off”

He removes his hand from her clit, wet from her juices, plays with her right nipple, before he leans closer to her left one, giving it a wet, sloppy kiss. He doesn’t discriminate, giving the other one equal attention, his saliva drying on her skin from the cold, night air. Her hands interlace behind his neck, pressing him down further, running them into his soft hair.

He kisses her as if they have all the time in the world, unhurried, indulgent, but she can feel him still inside her, throbbing, hot and impatient.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” She asks, breathy.

“Like I’ve never wanted anything else,” he tells her simply, before going back to his mission to squeeze and fondle and taste every inch of her breasts.

“Then do it,” she pleads, skin flushed.

He hums, fingers dipping back down between them, back on her wet, slick, nub. “You want it, huh?”

He regards her darkly, a part of him wanting to go ahead and give in, if only because she is undeniable when she begs. But the other part of him wants her to never look at him like that ever again, with discomfort, with pain… with fear.

“... Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” he murmurs, words caressing the side of her neck and making her shiver. “Just give me one more and I’ll do it.” And he works her clitoris mercilessly, using his spit generously, using his thumb and then his index and middle to stroke up and down over the top of her folds.

She clings to his neck, pleasure rising in her body, along her skin, the tops of her breasts, and deep inside of her. He caresses her neck with kisses, lips and teeth and tongue, as he tells her, “... I’ll fuck you just like you asked me to, babe. I promise.” He groans as he feels her tighten around him, her walls like a vice around his cock, squeezing, edging him impossibly. His voice grows rougher, “... Come for me and I’ll fuck you like I want to, just like I’ve fantasized about.”

“Ere-h,” she breathes, and he loves that, loves the way her name is just a breathy whisper on her lips, loves that she tells him incoherent things about how she’s feeling, tells him, “D-do it like that,” as she shudders through an orgasm.

It rips out of her like she didn’t even expect it, her cunt spasming deliciously and making him throb, her entire body shaking from the force of it. The sight makes his mouth water; so vastly different from the woman who took her clothes off for him that first night, the one who’d teased him and told him that he couldn’t touch her. And now she begged him for it.

She was a fucking wet dream and she felt like it, liquid heat consuming him, a drug that had an impossible grip on him. And even after her orgasm, she begs, “Fuck me, please… You said you wanted to.”

His voice is dry when he asks, “... Does it still hurt?”

“... Only because you aren’t moving.”

He groans, “Don’t say that… I just don’t want to hurt you.”

She laughs, high from her orgasm. “Don’t give up on me now, Mr Jaeger… Not after making me feel like this.”

His throat constricts, his hands digging into her hips only to prevent himself from throwing away every shred of control he has. “... And how exactly do you feel?”

Her lips ghost against the shell of his ear, lighting his skin on fire. “Like you’ve given me… almost everything I could’ve asked from you.”

And she moves. It’s lazy, a drawling sway of her hips, drugged by the aftermath of her pleasure. But it shakes him, pulls the tight cord of restraint that he’d done so well with, the arousal taut on every inch of his body. “You’re sure?” He asks, his last ditch attempt at not being the most selfish bastard on this planet.

“How much more do you want me to beg?” She doesn’t say it with sass, but with a desperation that matched his, eyes that looked at him like she’d plead how many ever times he asked her to.

He stares at her for a moment, heat flaming in his verdant eyes. And then he rolls her back on to the cushions and spreads her out for him again, legs pliant in his firm grip as he kneels down to touch his tongue to her - again.

“No,” she begs, “... Don’t try to distract me with that,”-

He swats her ass lightly, skin blooming pretty against the sting. “I want you ready for me when I fuck you,” he murmurs, before his tongue sweeps against her opening again, steam crawling through her blood when she thought she couldn’t possibly feel any hotter.

“I am,” she whimpers, “... I’m ready, Eren, I’m so,”-

He thrusts a finger into her and slides into her easy, so easy, it barely satisfies her. He adds another and watches her carefully, searching for any signs of discomfort.

He only sees her shiver in pleasure, lips parting with pretty whimpers, so he adds a third.

It makes her gasp, wriggling around him with how full she feels, and she mumbles, “... I can take you, you know, I’m not a virgin.”

And before she can elaborate he withdraws and thrusts himself into her in one deep stroke, eyes trained on her features the whole time. When he sees only her eyes fluttering closed, breasts arching, he says gruffly, “... I don’t really feel like hearing about who’s been here before me, babe.”

He lifts her legs and hooks them on to his shoulder, angling himself nice and deep and so deliciously warm inside of her. “You’re not lying now, are you?” He murmurs, reaching down to kiss her forehead, “... It feels good for you, doesn’t it?”

“I,” she inhales sharply as he pulls back and slides back in, still careful, still slow. “I won’t break, Eren.” She laughs, throaty, because she’s already broken, in ways that he still would never know, and when he handles her like this, so so carefully, like she’s made of glass, it makes her ache inside. “Fuck me harder… please.”

He stares at where they are joined, where he disappears inside of her wet heat, whispers, “... Fuck.” And before can think about it any harder, he grabs her by the hips and fucks her.

He drives into her like he’s dreamt of, hands rough on her legs, tilting his face into her soft skin as he bites curses into the swell of her calves. “You’re so good,” he praises, “.. so perfect. And you tried to keep this from me?”

She cries out, each thrust feeling so full. “I didn’t want to disappoint,” she whimpers, back arching from his pressure, “... Like I always do.”

He bends her over and eases into her smoothly, mumbling hoarsely, “A disappointment? God, you have no idea…” He fucks into her shallowly, the wet, slapping sounds of her body humiliatingly loud. “... Do you hear that, M?” “That’s how good your pussy makes me feel. So fucking wet for me.”

Her pants grow harsher, the mind-numbing drawl of his filthy words descending on her and making it harder for her to breathe. “So pretty when you feel good, babe,” he litters kisses along her calf, thrusting erratically, “... Gonna come again?”

He can feel himself getting close, but the urge to see her tip over one more time was simply overpowering. “It’s too much,” she sobs, his hand closing around her breast and squeezing hard. “... You can take it,” he encourages, because now he feels arrogant enough to think he can read her, he’s memorized those pretty expressions and tattooed them in his brain, knows perfectly well that quivering cunt can give him one more so they can finish together.

If the rational part of him thinks he has no business pretending he knows her, or fucking her like she’s his, he squashes it. It’s just so so easy to forget when she feels like that, looks at him with overwhelmed tears stinging her pretty eyes, gasping his name as she falls apart around him and takes him with her. So he squashes that part of him deep within along with the voice inside him that screamed when his ring brushed against her skin, or when it was buried deep inside her pussy as he fingered her.

It’s all he can do to pull out of her jerkily, ropes of cum splattering on her thighs and her mound, messily. He’s panting over her, body heavy on top of hers, but she kisses him sweetly, a smile pressing against his lips. There’s much to think about and he knows it, so much he wants to ask her and so much he wants to apologise for, because he’d been so rough, so careless fucking her without protection just now. But she laces her fingers around his neck and pulls him deeper for a kiss, and all he can feel is a blissful tiredness.

#eremika smut #liquorisce fanfiction #bylb

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maxfieldparrishes · 3 years ago

Text

some smutty griddlehark headcanons under the cut bc they are living rent-free in my brain and why would i possibly want to evict them (also, i am Horny and they are Super Horny and it’s just a good match!)

gideon

absolutely lives for eating pussy and would do it all day every day if she could

definitely a giver - harrow has to push gideon to tell her what she wants/feels good/etc bc gideon is v. focused on everyone but herself but gideon deserves to feel good too, dammit

very much likes to boss harrow around in the bedroom (role reversal!!! hot!!!) and gets a major thrill from telling harrow what to do

loves to have harrow spread her legs and masturbate in front of her - this is gr8 because a) harrow gets off harder when she’s feeling a little embarrassed because harrow has Kinks but won’t actually articulate that fact and b) watching how much more worked up harrow gets due to said mild embarrassment turns gideon on almost more than anything

has years and years of pent-up horniness, one hell of an imagination, and tons of porn mags. has made harrow turn beet-red in front of ianthe and camilla on more than one occasion with nothing more than a suggestively raised eyebrow

the first one to suggest bringing toys in

loves to use them on harrow. rabbit vibes and vibrating dildos are gideon’s go-tos toys for Maximum Strength Harrow Orgasms because harrow is extremely sensitive to, well, pretty much everything lmao

big, big fan of the strap-on (both using it and having it used on her)

the toys harrow uses on her are generally larger than the ones she uses on harrow because gideon likes to feel Full

will go at whatever pace feels right or whatever is comfortable for her partner, but in general likes to take it more slowly and lingeringly than harrow does because she really enjoys the closeness

loves harrow’s longer hair and loves to run her fingers through it, pull on it, stroke it

very fascinated by harrow’s frame - the fragility of her, her smallness, her delicacy... gideon once described her type as “ferrety waif”

likes getting her own hair pulled (especially during oral)

very patient with harrow and working up to new things with her, like face-sitting

speaking of, absolutely loves to have harrow sit on her face. loves the taste and feel of harrow’s pussy. loves harrow in general oh god my heart

in keeping with the bossiness thing, edging. holy fuck does gideon love edging

enjoys taking chances and trying new things. if you don’t try, you’ll never know and all that

probably likes to tie harrow up

her butt is more sensitive than her tits (bc of all the squats), also her back and her thighs are hotspots

loves harrow’s tits even though they are tiny and harrow is utterly baffled as to why she adores them so much

has an absurdly long tongue that she is absurdly good with. gideon could lick her lips just because they were dry or just because she was bored and harrow would instantly go from 0 to 83

wants the last thing she sees in her second life to be a) a close-up of harrow’s face as she orgasms, b) a close-up of harrow’s pussy as she orgasms, c) harrow riding her when she orgasms, or d) all of the above

more stamina than the average person, partly because she’s fit as hell and partly because she’s, you know, literally half-god

praise kink

loud as hell (this tracks)

harrow

a sub but still a brat (on the whole, anyway). i know a lot of people imagine harrow as very bossy and in charge while fucking because that’s just what she’s like in general and y’all do you (and also i see it), but i like to imagine sex as one of the few times where she feels comfortable relinquishing control to another person because harrow has always had to be in control and to put herself over into the hands of another is novel and exciting and even a little uncomfortable!!! (also she just wants to get railed and honestly? same)

possibly even more pent-up than gideon which... wow. impressive.

very awkward and insecure when she and gideon first start going to pound town, but still enthusiastic. struggles with getting out of her head at first, but gets better

needed to work up to penetration, first with fingers then with toys, partly out of unfamiliarity wrt that part of her anatomy (also her size bc harrow is Smol™) and partly out of embarrassment because intimacy? harrow doesn’t know her (yet!!!)

loves to sit on gideon’s lap and grind away on her thigh with her face buried in her neck

is very much obsessed with gideon’s body. very turned on by the fact that gideon is strong enough to literally break her in half (... same) and is also like a foot taller than she is

saw gideon’s abs and was immediately filled with a burning desire to lick every single last muscle

kissing! really likes kissing. master of the french kiss (or whatever they call it in the empire lol)

SQUIRTER (not every time tho). harrow is horrified because she didn’t know that squirting was a thing, but gideon absolutely did and is utterly enraptured that harrow can do it and makes it her new mission in life to make harrow squirt as many times as possible

wants gideon to sit on her face but the size difference makes it difficult so gideon usually sits or lays on the bed and harrow kneels or lays down

felt frustrated for awhile because she felt that gideon was giving more to her than she was giving back and that she wasn’t doing enough, because she does love gideon and wants to give to her but also doesn’t want to keep running the show and falls into a spiral of wondering when to exert control and when to give it up and which is better and why

likes it from behind, likes it hard, likes it fast - edging is torture but it feels so good once it’s all over

went absolutely hysterical the first time gideon edged her. came so hard she saw stars once gideon finally let her and and immediately fell asleep once gideon finished

gideon is working on building up her stamina. harrow both loves and dreads these times

moaner

praise kink

very sensitive overall, especially her tits and her ass. additional hotspots include back of her knees and behind her ears

will gladly let gideon guide her even though she makes it very clear that gideon is in no way obligated to do so and doesn’t want to put the onus on gidedon (again)

gideon smacks her ass once and she’s like oh. oh? OH and that’s how she discovers she likes getting spanked. also maybe has a mild humiliation kink

likes to cuddle afterwards and will get pissed the fuck off if something keeps her from her post-nut, oxytocin-drenched snuggles

#griddlehark #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #the locked tomb #these are my ns/fw headcanons read at your own risk!!! also feel free to chat with me about them bc i'd love to hear what you think!!!#i tried to keep them balanced and as in-character as i could pls be kind to me!!!#i love them very much and i want them to be happy!!!

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mint-yooxgi · 3 years ago

Note

hot demon bitches near you hotline where mc ends up calling/summoning yuta 😏

"Finally," the grin that stretches across his features is nothing short of maniacal as he cracks his neck, "I thought you'd never call."

Your mouth hangs open in shock, blinking a few times at the scene in front of you. Never, in all your years, did you ever think this ritual would actually work. Your friend had practically begged you to give it a try after she had done the same ritual herself only days before, stating that it was 'life changing'. Needless to say, you owe her an apology for your skepticism.

"You-" you can barely find the right words to say.

"Me," he quirks a brow at you, clearly amused at your stunned state.

"You're real," of all the words you could have strung together, you mentally curse yourself for how surprised you sound.

"Of course I'm real, Darling," he smirks, licking his lips. "As real as can be. Now... how may I serve you?"

His question catches you off guard, and you have to suddenly swallow the dryness that appears in your throat. You can tell that he's expecting something more than whatever you originally had in mind, for his voice is low, eyes hooded as he observes you.

"Uh..." words fail you as you take in his full appearance before you.

He looks human, as far as your eyes can see, except for the tattoos you can see snaking over his skin, as if wisps of shadows have come to life and are intricately wrapped around his skin. The patterns are truly mesmerizing, and he nearly purrs as he feels your eyes roam over his figure.

"Perhaps I should do the talking, then?" He hums, a teasing lilt to his voice as he starts stalking towards you. "You truly are a fascinating creature," he, once more, licks his lips. "I'm glad you listened to that friend of yours, you don't know how long I've been waiting to meet you." At your surprised look, he smirks. "Yes, I've been waiting a long time for you to summon me. Took me ages to convince your friend to try a summoning ritual, and then slip the idea of you doing the same one into their mind. Of course I erased their memories of everything afterwards. Don't want them to get in the way, of course."

By now, he's backed you into the wall, standing right in front of you as your heart races in your chest. So far, he hasn't made a move to touch you. Yet.

"Why?" Your eyes search his as you press your back further into the wall, much to his dismay.

"Why what, dear?" He cocks his head slightly as he look at you. "But you already know the answer to that question, don't you?"

"I-"

"Look at me," he doesn't even give you a chance to respond as he stares deeply into your eyes. "Really look at me. You'll remember soon enough."

You do as told, fearful as to what he might do to you if you don't obey his wishes. Taking in his features once more you focus on all the little detail, like the way his eyebrow twitches upwards occasionally in a teasing manner. That familiar cocky grin that showcases his all too white teeth, some looking a little too sharp to be considered normal. His dark eyes that swim with a longing you don't quite understand, darkening with each passing second your eyes remain on his.

Finally, as if something has sparked a long forgotten memory, a gasp escapes your lips, "Yuta."

"Took you long enough," despite the teasing smirk that continues to paint his features, you can tell there's an undertone of relief to his words.

Of course. How could you forget the demon you fell in love with all those years ago? Well, you know why. The council made you forget, but with the way he'd looking at you, you know they won't be an issue any longer.

Your whole body relaxes as you wrap your arms around him, pulling his closer as he finally reaches out to touch you for the first time in what feels like ages. Once his lips find yours, a content hum escapes his chest, pulling away only to rest his forehead on yours.

"I've missed you," he says, tightening his grip around your waist as he feels you bury your face in his neck.

"You found me," your breath sends a shiver down his spine.

"I told you I would," he hums once more. "And now that I have you, I'm never letting you go again."

#ask #yuta drabble #nct drabble #demon au #drabbles #yandere yuta #yandere nct

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sconnie-doesnt-know · 4 years ago

Text

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen.

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error.

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully.

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering.

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice.

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter.

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?”

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle.

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless.

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.”

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask.

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper.

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly.

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space.

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?”

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven.

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.”

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do.

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about.

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper.

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.”

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer.

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine.

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk.

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows.

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth.

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide.

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers.

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker angst #lee bodecker fanfiction #hoedecker club #hoedecker cult #tdatt fanfiction #my writing #fic title so wrong #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader

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jaskierswolf · 3 years ago

Text

Just the Three of Us

Written for @thewitcherbog teef week!

Prompt: Thigh bites

Ship: Geraskilion (Book!Dandy, Geralt, Jaskier)

Rating: Explicit

CW: smut ahead, blow jobs, threesome, voyeurism, exhibition, anal sex, mentions of double penetration, thigh riding/frottage, biting

When Jaskier had been portalled into a whole new realm, a parallel universe as it were, the last thing he’d expected was to end up in a relationship with another version of himself, and his life-long crush; Geralt of Rivia. Really, after so many years of travelling with his Geralt, he should have expected the unexpected, and if anyone was going to fuck themselves it would be him.

Or maybe Yennefer?

She definitely seemed like she was into some kinky shit. Yeah, she’d definitely fuck herself given the chance, and really Jaskier couldn’t blame her. He was hardly an innocent party, but Dandelion had been so fascinating and so beautiful that really Jaskier hadn’t stood a chance.

They were alike in many ways, but equally just as different, enough to make it absolutely thrilling. Dandelion knew exactly what Jaskier liked in bed, and their libidos pretty much matched, leading to a rather ridiculous amount of sex all around Geralt’s estate at Corvo Bianco. Clothes were a thing of the past, and if the surface was free enough, then it was very likely to be used for their exploits.

Geralt seemed almost relieved by Jaskier’s presence in their world, finally able to take a break from his bard’s insatiable sexual appetite. In this world, the witcher had a fondness for watching, sitting comfortably in the corner of the room, quite content to ignore his own erection as the two bards fucked each other in a frenzy. It was even hotter when Geralt took himself in hand, grunting as he came to the sight of his boyfriends. That always took Jaskier’s breath away, making his skin tingle and his cock twitch even mere moments after he’d cum.

But the best times were when Jaskier and Dandelion could lure their witcher boyfriend into their arms, lavishing him with attention, waxing poetry as they worshipped his body. Sometimes he would fuck one of them as they sucked the other’s cock. Other times, they would fuck Geralt at the same time. It took far too much thought and planning for Jaskier’s liking, but the end result was worth it, seeing Geralt’s hole stretched around both their cocks.

Fuck.

Was it any wonder that he couldn’t keep his hands to himself? He was just horny all the time, all the sinful memories trapped in his mind, replaying at the most inconvenient times, like when he was trying to write his entry into the Toussaint Bardic competition, for instance.

Well, if he was going to fail then the best thing he could do was drag Dandelion down with him. He smirked as he sprung from his chair in his office, and went to find his boyfriend.

“Lion?” he called as he wandered around the house, padding barefoot along the stone floors.

“In here!” Dandelion called back from the lounge, a couple of velvet couches set up in the front of the house.

Perfect.

Jaskier smiled seductively as he slid into his boyfriend’s lap, knocking the book from his hands and sending it tumbling to the floor.

“Hello,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Dandelion’s neck as he brushed the long blond hair behind his back. Dandelion let out a soft sigh, tilting his neck to give Jaskier better access, the skin already sporting a rather lovely dark bruise from Jaskier’s attention the night before. “I missed you.”

“Darling, it’s barely been an hour,” Dandelion reminded him, trailing his fingers along Jaskier’s spine, making him shiver as he kissed the hickey he’d already left behind.

“Hmm… far too long,” Jaskier agreed, nibbling at Dandelion’s ear and then capturing the poet’s lips in a lazy kiss, licking into his mouth, the taste of fiorano lingering on the poet’s tongue, rich and tantalizing, reminding Jaskier of their many picnics together in the fields surrounding the vineyards.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn heated, Jaskier wriggling in Dandelion’s lap, the poet’s hard cock pressed up against his arse. His fingers threaded into soft golden curls as he moaned into the kiss, yanking hard at the hair in his hands just to hear the sweet sound of his boyfriend’s moans, and Jaskier sat up just enough so he could reach behind him to guide Dandelion’s cock inside him, already loose and well slicked from Geralt’s cock not an hour before.

“Oh gods,” Dandelion gasped, his lips never leaving Jaskier’s. “You little whore.”

“Can’t leave you two alone for a minute.”

Jaskier moaned loudly as he turned to the door, and sure enough, there was Geralt gazing back at them with dark golden eyes, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He licked his lips as his eyes roamed over Jaskier’s body, lingering where Dandelion’s cock was pressed into his arse. Jaskier winked at the witcher, slowly pulling off Dandelion's cock before sinking back down with a choked gasp, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, Geralt, it feels so good, he fills me up so well,” Jaskier whined, rolling his hips to drive Dandelion deeper inside him.

“Not well enough if you’re still running your mouth, darling,” the poet purred, capturing Jaskier’s lips in a searing kiss, nails scraping down Jaskier’s back as he thrust up, hitting that sweet spot with ease, sending sparks flying across Jaskier’s vision, and before he could recover, Dandelion had thrust up again.

“Ah- f-fuck!” Jaskier gasped, the words muffled as Geralt’s lips covered his, the taste of fine wine replaced dwarven spirit, but Jaskier didn’t mind, he could spend a lifetime kissing Geralt and never get bored, especially whilst impaled on Dandelion’s cock.

Geralt’s hand pinched Jaskier’s nipple as his tongue delved into Jaskier’s mouth, leaving him breathless, and falling towards oblivion as Dandelion fucked into him with sharp thrusts. Calloused fingers trailed through the thick dark hair on his chest until they finally wrapped around Jaskier’s cock, and with just a few quick tugs, Jaskier spilled all over Geralt’s hand, droplets of cum hitting Dandelion’s chest.

Before Jaskier could catch his breath, he was pulled into Geralt’s arms, away from his beautiful poet, and he let out a soft whine, reaching out for Dandelion. “Lion…” he slurred, gazing at his boyfriend through the fog in his mind.

“I’m here, my dear buttercup, no witcher can take you away from me, isn’t that right, Geralt?” Dandelion purred, licking his lips as he looked at Geralt over Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Wouldn’t even try,” Geralt agreed, humming as Dandelion stood up, leaning into Geralt’s side as the pair of them shared a deep kiss. “Bedroom, more room there.”

“Excellent plan, my dear.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier agreed, mouthing at Geralt’s shoulder.

When Geralt finally kicked open their shared bedroom, Dandelion crawled onto the mattress and then beckoned them with a crook of his finger. “Won’t you join me, loves?”

“With pleasure,” Geralt growled, setting Jaskier down in the middle of the bed and then pulling Dandelion into another kiss over Jaskier, until Jaskier started to pout, feeling needy and left out.

He managed to get his hand between the two, pushing Geralt back onto the bed, and positioning himself between the two as he kissed down the witcher’s body, nibbling gently at each and every scar that passed under his lips. Finally, Dandelion joined him, licking and kissing at Geralt’s nipples as he straddled one leg, his still hard cock leaking as he rutted against the thick muscles of Geralt’s thigh. It was a dizzying sight, and Jaskier’s cock was already threatening to fill out once more. He groaned into Geralt’s skin as his teeth nipped at the soft curve of Geralt’s stomach.

“Gods, you’re so hot,” he murmured, one hand pressed against Dandelion’s thigh, as the poet rode the witcher so beautifully, golden curls falling in front of his face as he lost himself in his own pleasure, the most beautiful medley of moans and gasps escaping his lips.

“Oh fuck,” Dandelion moaned, long lutist fingers wrapped around his cock as he brought himself off, his cum covering Geralt’s stomach, tantalizingly close to Jaskier’s lips and tongue.

“Such a mess,” Geralt hummed, his fingers carding through Jaskier’s head, eyes dark with hunger as he watched his two bards use his body for their pleasure. “Clear it up.” The order was gentle, more of a suggestion but it still had Jaskier’s head reeling and he let out an obscene moan, crawling back up Geralt’s body to lick the mess of cum off the pale skin.

It wasn’t his favourite taste, but he felt filthy, and wasn’t that just the best fucking feeling when having sex with the two most beautiful people in all the universes.

When he was done, Dandelion pulled him into a sloppy kiss as both their hands reached for Geralt’s cock together. They laughed as they broke apart, eyes meeting, two very different bards, but still the same in so many ways…

Without talking, they both settled between Geralt’s thighs, Jaskier taking the head of his cock into his mouth, whilst Dandelion kissed the shaft. Above them, Geralt swore, his hips bucking off the mattress, and he dick fucking deeper into Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier whined, a little surprised but taking Geralt’s cock with practiced ease, hollowing his cheeks, and bobbing his head as the witcher settled back onto the bed. Next to him, Dandelion hummed happily, kissing at the soft pale skin of Geralt’s thighs, and as he met Jaskier’s eyes he winked, and bit down hard, nearly breaking the skin. Geralt cursed, a growl tearing from his throat as he struggled to catch his breath, but the two of them managed to keep him pinned to the bed as they worked. With a content hum, Jaskier pulled off of Geralt’s cock, sharing a quick kiss with Dandelion before they swapped places, the poet licking a long stripe up the underside of Geralt’s cock before swallowing it down, Jaskier’s hand stroking the base where Dandelion couldn’t quite fit it all in without damaging his throat.

The bite mark on Geralt’s thigh was already red and swollen, a perfect indentation of Dandelion’s teeth marking the witcher as his. Well, that wouldn’t do at all.

Jaskier giggled, his lips grazing over the tender skin on Geralt’s other thigh, mirroring where Dandelion's mark was, and nipped gently, kissing and nibbling all the way down to Geralt’s knee. He pressed a single kiss to the side of Geralt’s knee, a silvery scar marring the skin there, and then ran his nose back up along the inside of his thigh until he reached his mark. As Geralt’s gasps and pants grew more frantic, Jaskier bit down, sucking a dark bruise into the skin, just as the witcher came with a guttural moan that would haunt Jaskier’s dreams for years to come.

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed, the word slurred as he slowly recovered from his orgasm, letting Dandelion and Jaskier kiss him lazily until one golden eye cracked open, the taste of their witcher’s cum lingering on their tongues.

“Fuck indeed,” Jaskier sighed, and the three of them collapsed onto the bed, far too exhausted to move.

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire

#the witcher #geraskilion #geraskier #jaskilion #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #julian alfred pankratz #book!dandelion #multiverse #corvo bianco #wolfie's witcher writing #teef week

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