#buy great earbuds

[smartcamerashop2003]

Can You Wear Earbuds With Hearing Aids

Yes, can you wear earbuds with hearing aids, but it depends on the type of hearing aid you have and how you wear them. If you’re a hearing aid user and love listening to music or podcasts, then you may wonder if it’s possible to wear earbuds at the same time.

The answer is that it can be done, but it depends on the type of hearing aid you have and how you use it. Not all hearing aids work with all hearing aids, and in some cases, using hearing aids could interfere with the effectiveness of your hearing aid.

So, before trying this combination, it’s essential to understand how to do it safely and effectively. We’ll examine whether you can use hearing aids with hearing aids and share some tips and guidelines to help you do it right.

[fellow-traveller]

Bought bilipods' Jotaro Kujo earbuds. I needed a wireless one since my cat Coffee chewed on and destroyed all the wired earphones I had (I'm old school), almost every 2 months for the past 2 years.

I'm very much in love with the tiny schoolbag it came with. 💕

[tomb-mold]

people like to shit on the wired apple earbuds like theyre nothing special but tbh those are actually some solid cheap buds. they sound way better than any other earbuds ive used, even ones that were like twice the price. theres a reason i keep buying them lol

[minivirgo]

dropped one single earbud into my downstairs neighbours backyard 😭😭😭 and we couldnt find it . buying a single one of these earbuds on ebay with shipping is like 40$ ........

[excaive]

tfw new piercings

[camgoloud]

the unaffordability of one bedroom apartments in my area is something that can be so oppressive to me personally

[bending-sickle]

i need to be alone and hedonistic for like 48 hours maybe then i’ll stop breathing funny

[boneless-mika]

I need new headphones and new shoes lol

[coralinnii]

❋ Accidentally ignoring him ❋

feat: Floyd ⭑ Vil ⭑ Ace ⭑ Leona genre: fluff, humour note: no pronouns used with reader, established relationships, reader is kinda oblivious and scatterbrained. 

Ooff, someone’s gonna get squeezed

Not you…probably. Not until you explain yourself. 

Floyd is used to being avoided. He’s tall, strong, and not afraid to give someone a beating should they get too annoying. 

You have special privileges, though. Afterall, you’re his Shrimpy. His one and only thing that makes his day better, no matter his mood. A smile or wave from you would send him from 0 to 100 as he rushes to give you a swinging hug. 

But that day when he yelled out for you from across the halls, you didn’t even give him a second glance. In fact, you just walked past him as though you didn’t know him. That’s not very nice, you know. Eels are very sensitive. 

He came to the most logical conclusion (to him), someone did something to you and you’re too upset to acknowledge anyone, including him. Why else would you ignore Floyd, your lovable eel boyfriend? 

Even after threatening questioning everyone who may be close to you, all he got was nothing as everyone said that nothing was out of the ordinary and you were fine when they last saw you. As scared as they were of the tall merman, they were sure that you were the same as always. 

But if you were alright…then why did you ignore him? 

The crowded hallways suddenly split like the Red Sea, making way for the unhappy sophomore as he made a beeline to where your next class was supposed to be. Sure enough, he saw you making your way there. 

“Shrimpy!” He yelled out to you like he did earlier but like deja vu, you didn’t even raise your head or even turn to his direction which irritated Floyd, but he had another emotion, fear. Were you angry with him? So much so that you wouldn’t even look at him. 

Getting close to you, he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to finally make contact with you. If he wasn’t so sad, he would have thought your surprised face was cute. 

Before he could question your silent treatment, you beamed with glee with that smile that Floyd loves and his worries dissipated just like that. 

He watched you pull out one of your earbuds and greeted him brightly. You instantly wrapped the tall student in your arms, blissfully ignorant of the situation “Floyd, I haven’t seen you all day!” 

Apparently, you finally saved enough money to buy a pair of earbuds and have been excitedly using them before and after classes. They work great as you can’t hear anything not coming from your new airbuds. 

Floyd didn’t say anything, choosing to instead let his body melt into your hug, arms around you as his head rested atop of you. He’ll be mad at you at a later time but right now he’s letting this sense of relief wash over his previous worries. He’s secretly glad you weren’t mad at him or anything. 

“Shrimpy is such a meanie, scarin’ me like that. Don’t do that again or I might just squeeze ya”

Offended. 

Him? Vil? Being ignored? And by his beloved of all people? That’s inconceivable. Be it admiration or envy, Vil was always the target of everyone’s attention.

But there you go, hurriedly walking to wherever you need to be and rushing past him. Not even a small hello or a wave, he was absolutely ignored by you. 

Vil’s not that petty (pfft!) so he wasn’t gonna make a big deal out of this incident but when he decided to meet you during lunch, Vil was stunned in his spot as you rushed out from the cafeteria the moment you were done with your meal. You didn’t give a passing glance his way as you exited the room. 

This beautiful man searched through his memories for any clue to your odd behavior, but he couldn’t think of any reason for this sudden change. He knew your schedule so there weren't any urgent assignments or projects, and as far as he knew there wasn’t anything he did in particular that would make you avoid him like this. 

He was aware that to many, his personality can be hard to approach with his unwavering expectations for others and himself. He’s cutthroat with his comments and he’s not afraid to give his truthful opinions of others, be it criticism or praises. Vil thought you were understanding of his critical tendencies, perhaps even appreciative of it. But maybe, he has gone one step too far. Maybe, you’re now afraid of what he might say to you so you’re avoiding him because of it. 

However, Vil is not one to leave this to assumptions so he texted you if he could meet you as soon as possible. He’s pleased to hear that you’re willing to invite him over to your dorm that night. At least you’re not absolutely cutting him out. 

The blonde senior reached your dorm, standing just outside the front entrance. A rare sensation of nervousness rushed through Vil’s body as he knocked on the door. Would he see you with a sad look on your face or worse, a look of fear as you’re scared of what he’ll say to you. These thoughts left an unpleasant mark in Vil’s mind as he waited for a response. Whatever the truth was, he refused to let this ruin what he has with you. If he wills it, he will make sure that he can work to fix this. 

“Come in” he heard you call out which he doesn’t like. Do you not even want to see him until it’s absolutely necessary? 

Steeling his emotions, Vil walked through the door with determination to get to the bottom of this, but his indifferent facade broke as he was bombarded with streamers as you screamed out with all your energy 

“Congratulations!” You grinned from ear to ear as you were happy to surprise your lover with a surprise party for two. “I heard your recent movie got nominated for a huge award and you’re nominated for ‘Best Supporting Cast’” 

You just heard about it from Cater and you wanted to congratulate your boyfriend before he would most likely be busy getting ready for that important award show so you wanted to plan an intimate surprise party as soon as you can. You were rushing all day, using all the free time you had to make all the preparations. 

“I’m so happy, Vil. Your hard work is being recognised!” You’re so drunk in your happiness that you didn’t notice the conflicted look on the man of honor. 

Vil wanted to pinch you so hard right now. He almost got stress wrinkles because of you and you were clueless on your effect on him. To think, the perfect Vil Schoenheit getting frazzled by this dumb potato. 

But the blooming warmth in his heart that replaces the previous feelings of anxiety won as he chose to pat your head affectionately, looking over you with a look of bemusement. 

“To think that a little spudling like you could work me up like this. Good grief”

Ace is dumbfounded, flabbergasted even. What could he have possibly done to have gotten the cold shoulder from you? 

He texted you as usual, a casual “good morning” to start the day but he never received a text back from you. Though at this point, he shrugged it off thinking maybe you overslept. 

This was one of those days where your schedules didn’t match with his so he could only text you before meeting up with you during lunch. But so far, he hasn’t heard a peep from you since that morning. 

“What gives, man” the redhead thought as he kept an eye on his phone, hoping for a notification from you, almost getting caught by Professor Trein for using his phone in class. Whoops. 

Ace still has a level head at this point so instead of freaking out, he planned on grilling you during lunch about the ghosting. He ignored Deuce as he scanned through the crowd. His spirits lifted when he finally saw you, but that disappeared when you walked out from the cafeteria with Ortho. 

Ortho? Why leave your best friend and best boyfriend (both being him) for that tiny robot?? His voice could pass through the loud chatter of the lunch crowd so he tried desperately to text you again…only to be ignored again 

Ace is stubborn and unappreciative of being put into the doghouse so he’s quick to visit your dorm the moment school is done. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? Did you find out he ate the last dessert in your fridge? Or maybe you realized he copied off your homework without your permission? Oh, he did accidentally break that nice pen you got…

Ok, maybe he might have done something to deserve this but heck he ain’t going down without a fight anyway.

It was that stubbornness that surprised you when you opened the doors to see a pouty redhead staring at you. 

“Why have you been giving me the silent treatment, huh? Isn’t that a little immature?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You haven’t texted me all day!” Wow, now who’s calling who immature?

“That’s because I was getting my phone fixed,” you crossed your arms, annoyed by all this accusatory nonsense, “Remember? When we hung out yesterday and I dropped my phone while trying to run away from Riddle with you?”

Oh.

You went on to explain that your phone got real messed up since that day and you managed to convince Idia to fix it with the help of Ortho. 

Ace felt his body hit the floor as a wave of relief hit him like a tsunami. All his bravado was gone just like that and all that was left was the solace he felt knowing you weren’t mad at him at all. 

“Man, I thought you found out I ate your last dessert in the fridge” 

“That was you?!” 

“Sheesh, warn a guy next time would ya? Thought I was in real trouble or something”

Offended part 2. 

You got some nerves ignoring him like that. This would be an insult to the Royal family if this were back in his home country. 

Usually before the day starts, Leona would wake up from your gentle nagging and on occasion he could convince you to give him a few more minutes before getting up from bed, even longer if he could also convince you to snuggle with him. 

But it’s past the typical wake up time and he doesn’t hear or smell you anywhere close to his room. It’s not like you to forget and he doesn’t recall anything unusual that would cause this sudden change in routine. 

But Leona is as prideful as well…a lion so he’s not going to be the first to call you to see where you are. Nah, he’s not gonna be the clingy one that needs to know why you’re not here with him right now. 

But soon, hours passed and you haven’t visited him or even text him which dampened the prince’s mood significantly. He doesn’t even entertain the idea that you were mad at him or that you were ignoring him. All he’s thinking is that you better have a good reason why you’re not with him right now. 

Getting grumpier and hungrier, Leona finally decided to get up and leave his bedroom after taking the hint that you’re probably not gonna be coming in anytime soon. Every Savanaclaw student with half a brain knew to stay clear of their Housewarden as he looked ready to bite someone’s head off. 

He would never admit it, but he kept his eyes and ears out for even a glimpse of you as he walked through the hallways, subtly scanning the crowd for your face. He won’t ask if anyone has seen you or act like he was looking for you but even he can’t stop the twitch of his ears anytime he thought he saw you from afar. 

He was almost ready to tear into a poor student due to his bad mood until he finally heard you calling for him from across the hall. His mane-like hair whipped in the air as he quickly turned to the direction of your voice. 

“Leona, there you are!” 

“What, miss me already?” This man with his undeserved smugness. 

Ignoring his quip, you hurriedly grabbed your lover’s hand before pulling him into the direction of the headmage’s office, “There are some important figures visiting the campus today and Crowley is calling for all of the Housewardens to meet in his office” 

Leona groaned at the idea of meeting some stuck-up geezers but willingly let you pull him around, relishing the feel of your touch he’s been craving since this morning. 

In your rush, you pushed some papers into Leona’s free hand, containing short biographies of certain people. “These are some info I found on our visitors today so you’re not going in empty-handed. Seriously, this is why you need a vice Housewarden. This took me all morning to compile” 

Well, that explains your absence. The lion beastman would say that’s a justifiable reason for skipping out on him this morning. His bad mood disappeared as though it never was and soon he was replaced with a new sense of pride over you. Seeing you acting all responsible and assisting him with his duties…

Makes him think you would be perfect by his side in the royal family. 

“You got some guts makin’ me wait. But I’m in a good mood now, so I guess I won’t eat you this once”

[elodieunderglass]

the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

[nexysworld]

Summary: Leon Kennedy is your new neighbor, and seemingly a great guy; handsome, funny, sweet, mysterious. It doesn't take long until you're falling for him hard and fast. But things take a turn after the death of someone close to you. Strange events keep happening around you, leaving you in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you rely heavily on Leon. He plays his part well, always being there for you, always being your safe space. There's only one problem, unbeknownst to you, his obsession towards you is growing and as it does, so too does the measures he'll take to watch over you, and more importantly make you his.

Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader

Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn.

Read on AO3 || Ask Box Open || Masterlist

You had lived in this apartment since the day you moved out of your parent’s house. It was small, only a single bedroom located in a rougher part of the city. While the appliances hadn’t been updated since the 90’s and the place looked like a disaster, you did your best to make the beat down apartment your own. A few fresh coats of paint on the yellowed walls and some throw rugs to cover the stained and now flattened shag rug and boom — not too shabby. 

It was home. 

Living in such a rundown building meant that the turnover rate for neighbors was quite high, people always coming and going. None really caught your attention except for the few long-term tenants that seemed to have no intention of leaving. So of course when a new person moved in on the other side of Mrs. Wilson, the sweet elderly woman who shared the apartment next door, you paid no mind. 

In fact, it wasn’t until several weeks later that you had even seen who the new neighbor was. Returning from work, you watched Tina, the girl from 202 painfully trying to hit on – what you could only describe as – an absolute tank of a man. 

Sandy blonde hair was slicked back out of his face revealing a handsome mesh of chiseled and soft features. He had clearly been accosted on his way back from exercising, clad in black basketball shorts and a sweat-soaked gray t-shirt, sleeves straining against his massive biceps. His earbuds were tossed over his shoulder as he talked to the girl, music still playing quietly through them. Turning to the wall of shared mailboxes, you tried your best to not stare or eavesdrop, but damn was it hard. As you opened the small metal door, you couldn’t keep your eyes from darting back to him. 

‘I thought guys like him only existed in magazines.’ You thought to yourself, collecting the mail – even taking an extra moment to slowly sort through it where you were, buying more time to be nosy. It was obvious he was not into her at all. 

“Soooo Leon..” Tina said awkwardly, twirling her finger through her choppy red hair, the metal bracelets on her wrist clanging together with each movement, bubble gum gnashing between her pearly whites.  “You listen to music while you work out?” “Uhh…yeah, sometimes.” He said almost flatly, scratching a spot on his slightly cleft chin. 

“Oh that’s cool. What uh, what do you usually listen to?” She bit her red coated lip, and batted her lashes, it didn’t seem to garner any additional interest from the man.  

“Rock music, I guess.” Another flat response, his jaw clenching ever so slightly before he resumed his neutral look. 

“I like rock music. Uh…” You watched as she fumbled to try to come up with anything else to add, tapping her heeled boot against the floor. 

“Look, it was real nice talking to you, but I have to go.” He said flashing a small smile before popping his earbuds back in and running up the stairs, not giving the girl a chance to respond.

‘Ouch, that was awkward. But damn even his voice is attractive.’ Stopping yourself from giggling, you collected the few pieces of non junk mail and made your way back to your apartment. There was the smallest amount of guilt bouncing at the back of your mind, knowing you shouldn’t be ogling men like that while having a boyfriend. ‘It’s not like I did anything. I didn’t even speak to the guy.’ 

About a week after that, you had your first real run-in with Leon. Heading out to work you saw Mrs. Wilson’s door ajar — definitely unusual as she didn’t tend to get many visitors besides yourself. Concerned for her, you poked your head through the opening. The familiar smell of mint and warm bread hit your senses, but you didn’t hear a thing. 

Sliding inside you quietly poked around as you made your way to the back of the apartment, keeping an eye out in case anything nefarious was afoot. Much to your relief, the hall opened up into the living room at the back where you saw Mrs. Wilson. Next to her was another figure you hadn’t expected. 

Leon was standing with one arm above his head, unscrewing the blackened lightbulb from the socket before replacing it with the fresh one he had in his other hand. Workout attire replaced with a pair of worn blue jeans and a long sleeve black shirt. “Oh thank you.” Mrs. Wilson said with her signature wrinkly smile. “You’re so kind to do this for me. I hate having to bug the sweet girl next door all the time, but you know the lights in this place tend to blow every time there’s a storm and I can’t get up on the chairs like I used to.” “No worries ma’am.” He said with a far brighter smile than he’d worn during his interaction with Tina. His hair was no longer slicked back either, instead it framed his face, soft and fluffy, accentuating his cheekbones. You couldn’t help but notice the tiny gap his shirt left while his arm was raised, just the smallest peek of a dusty blonde happy trail and the faintest hint of hard muscle. “Looks like you have a visitor.” 

Leon turned his attention to you with a small nod before he flipped the switch on the wall to test the new light. It lit up, further illuminating the area with a soft yellow glow. “S-sorry.” You snapped out of it, raising your eyes to meet his. “I saw the door was open and I just wanted to make sure Grams was okay.”

“You’re always such a Darling.” The elderly woman said with a toothless grin aimed in your direction. There was a homeliness about the old woman that made you feel warm.  “Mr. Kennedy here is such a sweet boy. Have you met him yet? He moved in next door a while ago and offered to help me with a few things.” “I told you Mrs. Wilson, call me Leon.” He said as he tossed the broken lightbulb into the small pink trash can by the kitchen counter. “And I don’t believe we have met. Nice to meet you. The name’s Leon, well I guess you already knew that. Leon Kennedy.” He added his last name, reaching out a hand to you. 

“Nice to meet you too Leon. I’m glad to hear Grams has someone else to help take care of her. I live next door, in 306.” You couldn’t lie, your heart melted a little. ‘Handsome and kind? This guy must be a unicorn.’ You whisked the thought away again, the picture of your own boyfriend flashing behind your eyes again. 

The vintage clock hung against the floral wallpaper cuckoo’d and chimed, indicating the top of the hour. “Oh shit—“

“Language!” Mrs. Wilson chimed. “You know it’s unbecoming of a lady to—“

“I meant, shoot. Sorry Grams. I’m just running late for work.” You wrapped an arm around her in a quick side hug. “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to run.” Waving to Leon, you made a beeline for the door. 

“Well Ms. 306, I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He shouted after you. 

“You too Mr. 302!” 

Ever since, Leon became a regular in your routine. Short conversations in the hallway that always left you with butterflies swirling in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help the way your muscles in your face stretched into a permanent grin that you couldn’t stave off for the life in you. How a man managed to be so stoic and corny at the same time you’d never know. 

You ran errands for Mrs. Wilson together too, taking his Jeep out into the city. He would leave the top down and take the long way. Your hair would whip your face as you both sang along — poorly — to some dad rock mixtape Leon had. It seemed so fitting that he’d have an out of date tape player in his car, something so indescribably Leon. 

He really seemed like a great guy and you were enamored to say the least — though you tried desperately not to be. ‘It’s just a harmless crush.’ You told yourself. ‘He’s not into you anyway. Leon’s just a nice guy, worlds out of your league.’ 

~~~~~

Cool air bit at your cheeks and nose while you leaned against the brick wall of the building. Derek was abysmally late, you had the feeling he was upset at you for some reason but unable to fathom why. Hoping that it wasn’t the reason for his current absence, you checked your phone again.

Still nothing. A sigh escaped your lips as you readjusted your jacket.

“Everything alright?” The voice was immediately recognizable and your face lit up into a smile before you even looked over at him. 

“Hey Leon. Yeah everything’s fine, I’m just waiting on Derek.” You couldn’t be certain but you swore there was the slightest change in his expression, facial muscles contracting tightly before settling back into the lax warm look you were used to. “Oh. You know it’s not nice to keep a lady waiting.” Leaning against the wall next to you, he tilted his back to look up at the sky. He was wearing his brown bomber jacket that you found so attractive on him. A small part of you wondered how it would feel to wear it yourself, if it would smell like him. The other part of you was curious how a guy could afford such a nice brand name jacket, but lived in a place like this. 

“Yeah well… I think he’s mad at me actually.” You moved some dirt back and forth with your foot. “Why’s that?” A thick blonde brow was raised with interest as he tilted his head to look down at you. The dull light of the street lamp lit up half his face, casting hard shadows on the other, it accentuated each of his features in a way that made you never want to stop looking. 

“Wish I knew.” A dry laugh escaped your lips. As the wind picked up again, dust kicked up from the ground, blowing towards you along with some plant debris. You covered your face with the oversized jacket sleeve for a moment to protect your face. 

You heard Leon chuckle. “Looks like you picked up a straggler.” He brought his hand up to your head, just above your ear and gently removed a small weed stem that had made its home in your hair. 

“Thank you, I would’ve looked silly walking around like that.” 

He lingered close to you for a moment, flicking the stem away before he brought his hand back to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Mhm, can’t have that.” 

The moment felt intimate, and your heart beat out of time for a moment. You wanted to return the gesture, to say something, to do anything, but your brain was frazzled for a moment by the electric feel of his touch. 

“Ahem.” Your head snapped in the other direction to see your boyfriend standing there leaning against his car, not having heard him drive by or even exit the vehicle. 

“Have a good night Leon.” Quickly, you jerked away from his touch and ran over to your boyfriend, who had already started walking around to get back in the driver’s side of his car. Slipping into the passenger seat, you tried to lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek, but he turned his head enough to dodge it. Shrinking back, you buckled up and rested your head against the window, looking out as the city blurred past. ‘Guess he is mad at me.’

You attempted to fumble through some radio stations, but Derek made it clear he didn’t appreciate it, reaching over and turning it off entirely after the third one. The forty minute ride felt like hours as the rest passed by in total silence. 

His mood didn’t seem to improve at the movie theater either. Each little gesture of affection you attempted was immediately spurned. Every part of him radiated with negativity — and the thought of dinner afterwards made your stomach churn. A movie was a distraction and there was no requirement to talk, but sitting across from someone dead silent, that would be harder to deal with. The uncomfortableness of the situation caused your focus to drift again, only tuning in when a jumpscare appeared – unfortunately he left you to reel in your chair alone during those parts too. The movie ended, indicated by the overhead lights that suddenly appeared and the credits rolling on the screen.  Derek was halfway out the door before you even finished grabbing your bag. 

You had to run after him across the tacky carpeted floor of the theater and out intl the parking lot. “Why are you acting like this?” You pleaded, grabbing his hand before he could reach the car. 

“Acting like what?” He asked coldly. 

“Like this.” You gestured broadly towards him. “You’ve been cold to me the whole evening. Well actually more than just this evening.” 

“Really? I honestly didn’t think you’d notice.”  

“What does that even mean?” 

“You know exactly what it means!” He finally shouted. He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep breath trying to calm himself. Of course the two of you had fought before, but he’d never acted like this. It didn’t help that you had no idea what he was even talking about. “You’ve been pulling away from me for weeks now. You’ve been distant, canceling plans to ‘run errands’. When we are together all you ever do is talk about that stupid neighbor of yours — and then tonight, I catch him nearly eye fucking you right out in the open. You certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it.” 

“Derek….that’s not true. I — Leon’s just a friend, my neighbor I swear.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“What?”

“Are. You. Sleeping. With. Him?” He brought his eyes back up to meet yours, the look of hurt on his face made your stomach twist and heart ache. 

“No! What? No, I wouldn't do that to you.” You assured, stepping towards him. “Come on, please don’t be like this. I’m sorry if it seems that way, I don’t realize I’m talking about him so much. I’d never —“

“Save it.” He said, pushing you away from him again. “I don’t believe you. I don’t even know why I came out here tonight.” 

“Der—“

“I said save it!” He snapped. 

“This isn’t fair!” You shouted in return. “Why drag me out here on this whole date if you were this upset? You could’ve brought it up this whole time”

“I did. I told you over a week ago I was sick of hearing about him. I asked you to stop seeing so much of him, you told me no.”

“Leon’s a friend, I’m not going to ruin my friendship with him because you’re being psycho and jealous.”

“I’m a psycho because I don’t like that my own girlfriend spends all her time with some guy that looks like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad? How about the fact you don’t even seem to care that I’m hurt I thought I’d have been more important — you know what? Forget this. Forget it.” He turned to walk around to the driver’s side of the car. “I’m over this. You want him? Have him. I’m not chasing you. I thought you were my future wife, I thought we’d have the picket fence, kids, all of it. But now I get how you feel about everything.”

He slammed the car door shut, started the engine, and began backing out of the spot. You banged on the window to get his attention. “What are you doing? You’re seriously just going to leave me here?”

“Call your boyfriend to come get you.” He sneered through the window before blasting off and out of the parking lot.

You were stunned, unable to move as you watched the car disappear. ‘He can’t be serious right now? He’ll be back right?’ Pulling your phone out of your pocket you checked the time, 10pm. Wanting to hide your shame from the few people staring at you, and deciding he just needed a little while to cool down, you sat on the sidewalk in front of the theater, hidden by a bush that extended out. 

15 minutes passed. Nothing. 

Dialing the familiar number it rang a few times before going to voicemail. You tried again, this time it went straight to voicemail. 

10 more minutes passed and you tried to text him.

20 more minutes, still no response or call back. 

The wind was picking up again, making it chilly even under your jacket, which you’d brought down over your knees to try and keep in more warmth. This part of the city you weren’t familiar with, and weren’t sure it was worth the risk of trying to walk home. Given the situation, calling Leon was the last thing you wanted to do, especially since he was probably asleep by now — not that it was his job to really come save you anyway. 

Opening the Uber app on your phone, you put in the respective addresses. “$30? Not including a tip? Fuck.” You bit your lip in frustration. Technically you had enough, but it was the last of what was left in your account after bills.

Tapping your fingers along the cement, you shivered as a particular gust of wind leaked air into your jacket from the opening underneath. ‘Even if I did call Leon and he wasn’t mad I woke him up, that’s still a drive away. An Uber would be faster…but I do need groceries to sustain life.’

“This sucks.” You said out loud to yourself, burying your face into your knees, you had no clue what you were going to do and were running out of time to decide. By this time, the parking lot had emptied entirely, theater closing for the night. ‘Fuck it. I’ll just call and if he doesn’t answer I’ll order the stupid Uber.’ 

Opening his contact, the picture of him you’d taken at the park came up. Blonde hair pushed back and messy, one sea blue eye opened staring at your phone’s camera while the other was closed in a wink. You’d even convinced him to throw up a peace sign – it was so silly and so very Leon. Sighing, you began the call, letting the phone ring.

As it rang over and over again, you could swear you heard a familiar tune in the distance. It was very quiet, like someone was playing the radio several blocks over, but it tickled your ears all the same. You ended the call the moment it went to his voicemail, as you did you swore the song had ended too. ‘Weird, I must be hallucinating. Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top, abandoned and crazy.’ You let out a dry laugh at the thought. 

Luckily after a moment, the phone buzzed in your hand, heart fluttering a little when you saw his name pop up on your screen. “Hey.” You said softly. 

“Hey there.” He replied, his voice sounding groggy. 

“Sorry to uhm….sorry if I woke you up.”

“S’not a problem. Everything ok?” 

“Well I uh….” 

“What’s wrong?” His voice sounding more alert now, you heard some shifting on the other end of the line. 

“Derek kind of ditched me at the theater. I’m a little stranded —“

“Need me to come get you?” 

“If you don’t mind. But if you’re asleep —“

“No, it's fine. I’d rather make sure you’re okay anyway. Where are you at?”

“The theater up by main, across from the big shopping center.”

“I’ll be there in 15, ok?”

“15, are you sure?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be? This a test?” There was a small chortle from his end. “Well it’s just that the apartment is nearly 40 minutes away? I hope you’re not planning on driving like a maniac.” There was a long moment of silence on the other end, so long it began to make you feel anxious. “Hey Leon, you still there?” 

It was still another few seconds before his voice could be heard again. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry about that. I actually crashed at a friend's house after you left, so I’m nearby.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

The wait for him to show up felt like an eternity, you watched each and every minute tick by on your phone, both giddy and nervous with anticipation. When his Jeep came to a stop in front of you, you bolted up with a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He replied with the same grin he always greeted you with. His hair was a little messy and he looked tired, making the guilt bubble up in your stomach more. “So….you gonna get in or?” 

“Oh yeah.” Letting out a nervous laugh, you ran around to the passenger seat before hopping in. He had the heater on, not that it was doing much with the open top, but you appreciated every time the warmth hit your legs. 

“So what exactly happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” He leaned back more comfortably in his seat, driving with one hand as the other rested on the door.

“We just got into a fight….” You fidgeted with your phone as you gave him a glance in return. “He seems to think I’ve been cheating on him…or at least that I like someone else. I tried to tell him it wasn’t true, but you know…

“So he abandoned you? Just like that?” He asked bewildered. 

“Yeah I guess he did…” 

“That’s pretty shitty of him. I mean what if something happened to you?”

“Yeah it was… I don’t know…” You trailed off, not wanting to talk about it further, just dredging up those bad feelings. Instead, you opted to change the subject entirely. “Hey you know what’s weird?”

“No, what?”

“That one Nickelback song you like so much…you play it almost every time we’re in the Jeep together.”

“Oh, Far Away? Sure, what about it?”

“Well…as I was calling you, I swore I heard it. Was so weird, like a scene from a movie or something — maybe it was a sign that you’d come get me. Or I had a psychotic break and imagined the whole thing. Could be either one.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a chuckle. “I don’t know about the universe, but I am always here if you need me – even if you’ve lost your mind.” He tilted his head and gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Thanks Lee…” The rest of the ride home went smoothly — things falling back into place like they always did. Blasting music obnoxiously loud for the hour, singing along. He even stopped to get you milkshakes on the way back, despite your insistence that you were fine. In his defense, the logic of ‘no one can be upset with a milkshake’ made a lot of sense. 

As the vehicle rolled in front of the building, he leaned over, swiping his thumb across the side of your mouth. “Had something there.” His tongue darted out, lapping the sticky white substance off of the digit.

“Oh.” The simple touch had that electric feeling sparking throughout your veins again. “Thank you….and thanks again for the ride.”

“No problem.” 

Not knowing what else to say, you nodded and scurried from the vehicle back inside the building. He didn’t follow immediately behind you, having to properly park, which left you relieved. 

The entire evening was a whirlwind of emotions and that last little interaction had your entire brain scrambling inside your skull. All you wanted was for the night to be over with, forgotten as you drifted to unconsciousness. 

You took a quick shower before changing into your pajamas and all but flopping into the comfortable fortress of your bed. 

Curling up into the soft bedding, you expected sleep to come over you quickly — but you were wrong. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could picture was that pink tongue darting out to lap up the milkshake from his thumb. His smile, his eyes on you. It made you shudder and clamp your legs together, heat rushing between them. You squirmed around tossing and turning, trying to get your mind to relax and to stave off the arousal that was hindering your sleep.

Nothing you did was working, finally deciding to just give in, sinking your hand down between your legs. ‘Just so I can sleep…’ 

Hand tracing gently along your slit through your panties, you spread your legs farther to give yourself more access. Closing your eyes you could vividly see his face between your legs, tongue out lapping at your panties the way he’d done to the ice cream. 

A soft moan escaped your lips as you applied more pressure, rubbing the slick soaked fabric against your aching bud of pleasure. “Mmm Leon…” The comforter was slowly becoming suffocating, too hot. You tossed it off of yourself to the other side of the mattress, letting yourself feel the cool air as it rushed against your skin – nipples sensitive to the temperature change. 

You brought your left hand up under the silken sleep shirt, circling one hard bud with a finger before pinching it lightly. The fingers of your right hand teasingly walked themselves up to the hem of the fabric, dipping inside the band to properly travel down. Air escaped your mouth once direct contact was made to your throbbing clit. “Leon…so good…” 

In your little vision the man had moved to hook your legs over his shoulders to gain a better angle - the real you bucking your hips up against your fingers, desperate to add to the vision. “So good to me Lee….always so good to me….fuck…” 

Your fingers slid up and down against yourself, left hand abandoning your breast to travel it’s way downward as well, two fingers slipping themselves within your soaking hole – desperately needing to clench around more than the nothingness you were left with. “So close….gonna…” The words caught in your throat as the pressure finally released itself, tingling warmth spreading from your core throughout your body. It was quick and rough, far from the best you’d ever had but it was exactly what you needed. 

The illusion finally cracked and you were left with sore arms, staring up at the ceiling – momentarily sated and relieved, again hoping sleep would take you quickly. 

A/N: If this looks familiar, it's a total rewrite/reboot of my yandere!leon series. This original series was inspired by @explorevenus' Something Permanent series. Other inspirations include @gigabyte-flare, @lipglossanon, and @girldungeon's works. Special shoutout to @elfven-blog and her superior pinterest skills for the aesthetic pics used in the banner.

Next Chapter

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 4.0k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! baby fever!gojo, breeding kink, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names (mama, baby), pull out method, oral (f!receiving), talks of having kids and starting a family, ooc!gojo(?)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ Gojo seems like he’d be so good with kids! He’s all but adopted Yuuji and actually adopted Megumi. That man would be a great dad.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

Gojo loves coming home to his apartment smelling like you. His penthouse always has a certain smell to it. Cleaning chemicals courtesy of his maid that dusts away the cobwebs while he’s out of town, and the deep floral scent of his cologne that you love so much. But underneath the artificial smell of wood polish and his signature expensive fragrance is something innately you. 

He can smell your perfume and hear your voice before he’s even kicked off his shoes in the entryway, mumbling through the lyrics of some song as the apartment warms with the smell of your cooking. Gojo has isn’t much of a chef by choice, prefering to eat out or order in, and he’s never really bothered to buy proper groceries. His cabinets are filled with cereals and chips and his fridge is a rotating stock of sugary drinks and sometimes fruits if he remembers to pretend to care about a more balanced diet. Really he has people that buy food for him. His maid or someone else–he never really noticed their salaries leaving his bank account so it really doesn’t matter. They try to leave him with something proper to eat. Meat and vegetables, food that’s actually healthy. Usually he ends up tossing it as the meat spoils and the vegetables rot but you’ve decided to help yourself to whatever he has left, standing over the stove armed with a pair of tongs. 

He wonders how long you’ve been here. He guesses a while since you’ve had time to make yourself comfortable and start cooking. He recognizes the shirt hanging down to your thighs as one of his, plain white and slightly worn–just the type of thing you’d like to steal from him because you like just how good he smells. It’s cute. You’re cute as you swing your hips to the song playing in your earbuds, tending to your cooking without a care in the world. He leans against the island that smells sharp and citrusy and smiles at your thoroughness. Already cleaned the counter to avoid those pesky uncooked chicken germs. You pick up each marinated piece with a gloved hand, fishing the cooked chunks out of the pan to be set aside. 

It’s heart wrenchingly domestic the way you’re always so diligent in the kitchen, attention divided between so many tasks at once. Your gloved hand mixes the bowl of uncooked chicken bits, trying to spread the seasoning on every piece because you hate eating bland food, while your other hand flips the pieces sizzling in the pan. It makes Gojo want to see you occupied even further. It’s mean to want it for you when you always whine about not yet, Satoru whenever he tries to bring up the topic of kids. But, fuck he wants to come home to you just like this with a baby on your hip and another, only a year or two older, hanging onto your leg as your pregnant belly bumps against the edge of the stove. His dick jumps, thickening with excitement at the idea of you having his babies, making you a mama. You deserve it and he knows you want it, too. No matter how much you whine and squirm when he says he’s going to cum inside you. 

Breathy whimpers of, Satoru, no! as you try to sound stern even when you’re bouncing on his cock, greedy pussy sucking him in as he pulls out to fill you with another deep thrust. You get to cream on his dick whenever you want, pussy frothing white rings around his base as he folds you up and fucks you good but he can’t even cum inside, not even once. He could be mean and make you take it, keep bullying your insides even after you cum until you’re crying on his cock and leaking his cum so he can laugh at the tears sparkling in your eyes. 

He watches your ass bounce as you dance, oblivious to his arrival. You’ve got those little black shorts on. The kind that cling tight to your curves and he groans, eyes rolling back behind his tinted glasses. You’re torturing him on purpose, you have to be. There’s no other reason for you to look so fucking perfect right now. You reach over to pick up a piece of lettuce, chewing on the edge of the leaf as you finally catch sight of him in your periphery. He watches you startle, lettuce leaf hanging from your mouth as your eyes widen. Like a goddamn bunny caught in the sights of a wolf. Soft cheeks and bright eyes as you smile and shove the rest of the lettuce into your mouth. 

“Satoru!” You beam at him like you’ve never been happier to see anyone in your life and it makes him melt, folding over the counter to groan his desperation into the cold granite. Fuck! He can imagine what your babies will look like. They’ll be chubby ’cause mama will feed them so well. Fat cheeks and pudgy little arms that’ll cling tight to you whenever you hold them. He wants to see your nose, your lips, your everything in their faces. He couldn’t care less about passing on any of his genetics when he just wants to make more little yous that reach for him when he comes home, little hands opening and closing in his direction while you smile and welcome him home just like you are now. 

“I’m making chicken.” You say, half facing him so you can tend to your cooking and look at him at the same time. 

“Uh huh,” he says dumbly because he’s not really listening. As sweet as it is hearing you tell him about your day he’s just focused on the shape of your lips and the way your nipples poke through the thin fabric of your–his!–shirt. He wants to get his mouth on them. Shove the shirt up under your arms so he can fill his mouth with your tits. He wants to see you squirming as you rub your thighs together, panties soaked as he tugs at your nipples. He wants to tease you with coy quips of “feels good, mama?” as he pries your legs apart so he can rub at your little clit and make you cum with his fingers in your pussy. You’ll be so good for him. Shaking and nodding, trying to muffle your voice behind your hand as you pretend you don’t like when he plays so messily with your chest, slobbering over the soft skin as his tongue flicks over the sensitive little peaks of your nipples. You like it. You love it. Always complaining but cumming the hardest when he’s messy with you. He’ll eat you out after you cum, fingers on your sore clit getting replaced with his lips as he sucks the sensitive nub into his mouth, teeth grazing softly, just enough to make you yelp and tug at his hair as he swallows down your slick. 

Gojo’s hard on is nearly painful in his sweatpants but you can’t tell as you remain on the other side of the island, oblivious to the way he’s palming at himself as you complain about one of your coworkers. Something about fucking up inventory and stealing commissions. 

“You can quit, mama. I’ll take care of you.” His voice is light with amusement but he’s dead serious. He knows you like working, like having something to do with your time. You have friends and a life, an apartment of your own that he absolutely loathes. Why can’t you just live here with him when he so clearly wants to spend all his time spoiling you. Spoiling the pretty little babies you’ll make with him. 

“I like my job, Satoru.” You remind him as you turn off the burner and carry the food over to the island. He hopes you’ll come sit down next to him and catch him touching himself. His cock is drooling in his pants at the mere sight of you. Instead you decide to stand across from him, filling lettuce leaves with rice and chicken and pickled vegetables before shoving the huge bite in your mouth. Your cheeks fatten and he leans forward to poke them, cooing over how cute you are. 

Cute mamas make cute babies and he knows yours will be tooth-rottingly adorable if you just. Let. Him.

“I can give you a new job.” He promises. “Being a mommy is a full-time job. I can make you a mama and you won’t have to worry about anybody bothering you. Promise.” He’s desperate. This isn’t the first time he’s asked and it’ll be far from the last. He won’t stop until you’re saying yes and he’s bending you over and filling you up how you deserve. You laugh, far past being annoyed that he’s so insistent. He imagines it’s hard for you not to find his desperation funny when Gojo Satoru has never wanted for anything in his life. Nothing but you, and now your babies. He wants them. He’ll wait for them. 

“In a little bit, Satoru. We’ve got time, we don’t have to rush it.” But he wants to rush it. And is it really rushing if he’s been thinking about it for months. Sure, you’re young but he wants babies. Plural! He wants to have at least three of them. Maybe four or five if you’ll let him. As many as he can breed you for. He’ll fill you up until you start begging for him to pull out again every time he fucks you and then he’ll go back to pouting as his babies get older with no new additions to the family. He wants a litter, a ridiculous amount. The kind of family that needs a minivan and maybe a nanny to help manage all your little babies. He has the money, you know he does. He can afford it but you’re just so mean and patient about it. Gojo can be patient but he really doesn’t want to be when it comes to you. 

He can never wait to get home to see you, can’t wait to get you in bed, can’t wait for your future together. He wants it now, now, now! but he lets you say no. Of course he does. He knows it’ll be a yes someday when you decide you’ve tortured him enough. You’ve already said you want lots of kids or else why would he even consider the thought. You’re so mean to him. Planting that thought in his head and letting it grow like a weed so now he’s always thinking about baby names and maybe buying a house with a big yard and a dog for the kids to play with. 

Fuck, you drive him insane. Smiling sweetly like it isn’t your fault he’s already thinking about nursery colors and the safest model of car. He’s a bit lax with looking after himself but he’ll make damn sure to take no chances taking care of his family. He eats the food you made, legs spread to relieve some of the tension as he watches you pack the rest of the food up and put labels on each container. It makes him think about packing lunches for school and he pushes away his half eaten plate to drag you to bed. 

He kisses you when you complain that he hasn’t finished his food, that he must be hungry ’cause he just got home and it makes his cock hard all over again. It went soft as he was listening to you tell a story about a rude customer while he mused about family safe pets and what to name them. That wholesomeness is gone in an instant as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, swallowing your protests as spit starts to leak from the corners of your mouth. Because how can you still be so cutely attentive when he’s been giving you pointed looks over the edge of his glasses, tongue poking into his cheek in the way he does only when he’s thinking about stripping you out of your clothes. You’re babbling about price matching and expired coupons while he’s trying his best to remind himself that he can’t knock you up and give you a new little person to take care of the moment he gets you on his dick. But fuck does he want to. 

And you’re not making it any easier for him. Pawing at his shoulders and asking what’s got him so worked up like you don’t just need to exist in his proximity for his mind to start melting into thoughts of giving you his cock just the way you like. The bed is made and he knows he hadn’t done it before he left and his maid wasn’t scheduled to come through until next Wednesday. So fucking perfect. Tidying the house and making food so he’d have something nice to come home to but he’s not supposed to reward you with his cum spilling out of your little pussy? Yeah, okay. 

“Need you.” He mumbles as he pushes you down on the freshly fluffed pillows. “Need you so fucking bad, mama. You’ll let me, yeah? I can have you, right, baby?” You nod, murmuring, “I’m all yours, Satoru” as he pulls your shirt over your head and shoves those tight little shorts down your thighs. You’re not wearing panties and he nearly creams in his pants at the way your puffy little pussy is already shiny with arousal. Just some kisses and sweet words and you’re already dripping for him. Gojo groans, feeling grateful to have you because who else could be this perfect for him. He tosses his glasses aside to look at you properly. All wet lips and eager smiles as you wait for him to take care of you in the way only he can. He’s sure you’re gonna kill him someday. 

He gets his mouth on your tits just like he wanted, groaning at the taste of your skin as he sucks on the pert little bud. Your breath hitches and the little sound would’ve sent him to his knees if he wasn’t laid out on top of you like a weighted blanket, leg slung over your squirming thighs as he makes a mess of your tits. Licking and sucking each one until they’re both wet with his spit and you’re shaking on the edge of an orgasm. He lets you have it, looking down to watch the way your thighs tremble pitifully as your pussy clenches around nothing. It’s fucking hot and he shoves his pants down his hips just enough to squeeze at his cock, flushed a deep angry red from how long he’s been neglecting it. 

Gojo groans against the plushness of your breast, breathy little pants puffing over your abandoned nipples as he jerks off like he’s never seen tits before. He cums fast, spilling over your tummy in short streaks. It’s pitiful but it takes the edge off enough for him to treat you the way you deserve. His shirt is tossed aside as he mouths at your tummy, licking up the mess he made so he can share his taste with you. He’s already half hard again as you suck on his tongue. He spits in your mouth just to hear you yelp and wiggle like you don’t get stars in your eyes when he treats you dirty. Your thighs are clenched tight, knees knocking as you try to find some relief in the meager friction. Gojo bullies your legs apart as he leaves hot, wet kisses down your body. Prints of his lips shining down your sternum and over the softness of your tummy. He takes extra time to love on it, nuzzling against you because that’s where his babies are gonna go. 

He can’t wait for it. The bump of your belly and swelling of your tits. He knows you’re gonna complain–rightfully so!–about your sore back and swollen ankles and he’ll be there to coo and cajole you into being nicer to yourself as your body changes to accommodate the new life you’re growing for him. He grinds against the bed as he noses his way between your legs. Your thighs snap closed around his head as he tongues you from fluttering hole to twitching clit and he moans. All he can smell, feel, hear is you as your hips buck up into his greedy mouth. 

Gojo throws an arm over your hips and you fall still immediately under his strength but he can still feel the little aborted shifts of your weight that make him laugh against your cunt. He thumbs back the hood of your clit and he makes a show of sucking hard on the little nub, watching your eyes flutter and back arch as you gush around his fingers. He doesn’t stop even as you cream on his tongue, slicking up his face with your cum. He pulls away with a lewd pop! and smacks his lips ’cause he knows how much you hate when he does that. 

His smile is shiny and cruel as his fingers hook against your gummy walls, still pulsing as he drags the pads of his fingertips over that sweet spot. Your lips part but you have no breath in your lungs to make any noise and Gojo wants to spit on your tongue again, let you taste how good you were for him. He winds your body tight, not giving you a break until you’re whimpering and trying to push his hand away, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, mama, I got you.” He doesn’t leave you empty for even a minute, rubbing the wet head of his cock over your clit before pushing inside you with a hiss. 

“Gotta let me in, baby.” He coos when you clench too tight for him to push further. It feels so good the way you’re gripping his cock but he wants to be deeper. He’s only halfway inside and he knows you can take more. You can take all of him. His thumb finds your clit even though he knows it probably hurts by now, flushed and sore as he traces smooth circles over the swollen bud. 

“Satoru, s’too much!” You hiccup, trying to pry his hand away even when he’s being so purposefully gentle. 

“I’m being good.” He pants. “Treating her real nice. Just gotta let me in, mama. Let me in so I can fill you up how you want.” He’s lost in his daydream, imagining finally filling you up, making you take him and grow him a little baby. His free hand pets over your belly as he tries to get deeper with each shallow thrust. And when he pops past that last bit of resistance, Gojo fucking collapses. He buries his face in your neck and goes still. It feels like he’s fucking melting with all the wet heat milking his cock and it doesn’t help that he can feel your pulse fluttering against his panting mouth, and feel your hips trying to buck against him. 

“Please, please,” you pants helplessly. “Love you, please!”

“Mm, love you, too, baby. Gotta gimme a minute,” he laughs, pretending he didn’t almost break his promise and paint your insides white the second you let him all the way inside. You’re the one that wants him to be careful but you’re mewling and moving like you wouldn’t mind if he came right now, pressed right up against your cervix. He bites a bruise into your shoulder to distract himself before pulling his hips back to bully his way back inside with a deep stroke. 

He’s mean about it because he’s pouting. He can’t have what he wants even though it’s so close. He won’t push his luck but he can still be upset about it as he fucks you into the bed. His tongue licks up beads of sweat as they drip down the hollows of your throat, teeth worrying bruises over your shoulder because he knows you don’t like when he leaves too many marks on your neck. He’s so nice and attentive and has you absolutely wailing, nails digging into his back as your legs lock around his waist, but he still can’t have what he wants. 

“Please, mama?” He tries one last time as he feels you starting to pulse around him. Your eyes meet and he swipes a messy kiss that’s more spit and tongue than a proper kiss over your mouth before he lets you answer. It’s the same “later, Satoru!” he always gets, yet he still can’t help but be a little disappointed as his balls tighten at the feeling of you cumming on his cock with a wail. There’s a sticky sound as he pulls back, webs of wetness strung between the two of you where you’ve turned his cock white with your drooling pussy. He almost whines at the sight, pressing back inside even as you shiver because he’s so close and this warmth will only last a few moments longer. He gives you long, hard strokes that drag out the last edge of your orgasm. 

“So mean.” You pout even though your legs don’t want to let him go as he pulls out. He leaves just the head inside you, stroking his soaked shaft with quick strokes. It’s a dangerous game to be playing but he thinks he’s earned it by being so patient with you. He pulls out at the absolute last second, jerking off onto your stomach because if he can’t put it in there he can at least mark where he wants it to go. 

“Right here, baby.” He groans, leaning over you with one hand on your waist while the other squeezes every last drop of cum from his cock. “That’s where I’m gonna put ’em. That’s where all my cute babies are gonna go, right, mama?” He smiles and he knows it’s patronizing but you’re all too happy to indulge him. 

“Yeah,” you push your hand in beside his as he thumbs at your stomach. “Yeah, right there. I’ll keep ’em in there for you, baby.” 

“Yeah, you will.” You promised. Someday. Not never, just not right now. He’s still impatient but post-nut clarity has sort of straightened his head out as he curls up next to you. He bats your hand away when you try to wipe the mess of his cum off your tummy. 

“It’s gross.” You complain just like he knew you would but you don’t try again. His room has lost the scent of cleaning chemicals and cologne as the smell of sex seeps into every crevice. He can smell your sweat and the scent of your cunt and he’s content to go to sleep without changing the soiled sheets. He’s almost there, lulled by the even sound of your breathing but he still gets up to get you water and a washcloth. He hums in sympathy as you squirm while he cleans the mess between your legs, swiping through your sensitive folds with a careful attentiveness. He stares at the dry mess of his cum on your skin for a little while longer before wiping that away too. You sip your water and remind him to go finish eating and he nearly pops a boner again because you really don’t know how to turn off your charm. 

“Later. Promise I’ll eat later. Jus’ wanna lay with you right now.” He murmurs and slings his leg back over yours. You’re both naked now and slightly sticky from all the sweat but he clings to you anyway. Your fingers find his hair, nails brushing over his scalp gently as you go back to humming. Gojo can’t tell if you’re doing it on purpose or if you’re singing absently to yourself but he can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like to watch you sing lullabies to your babies. Yeah, later can’t come soon enough. 

[jaemified]

TAKING ME HIGH (ANGEL)

“fuck. you really couldnt wait an hour?”

☆ pairing ; dior employee minghao x flight attendant fem reader

☆ genre ; smut (minors dni!!), porn w plot, est relationship

☆ warnings ; swearing, smoking, oral (m receiving)((giving head under the table)), handjob, haos mean, readers bratty, praise kink if ya squint, degrading, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel, sweet girl, pretty baby, brat, slut), hair pulling

☆ wordcount ; 2.0k

☆ synopsis ; after being away from your boyfriend for almost a literal week thanks to your job, you want nothing more than him in every possible way. but when he finds himself picking his games over you, you come to a compromise; sneaking under the table while hes distracted.

READ BELOW THE CUT

it wasnt like your boyfriend didnt spoil you.

i mean, you were pretty fucking spoiled considering he was one of diors top employees. he always made sure to bring you home a ‘small’ gift coming out of his bonus after a successful sale at work.

and by small, he means one of the most expensive perfumes or shoes he knows youd love.

of course you were grateful for the gifts and all, it wasnt like it was one sided seeing as you always brought him back some luxury brand when you took part in flights across the world BUT, all you really wanted was his attention.

youre his perfect angel, you both knew that. but no amount of gifts can satisfy how much you craved him and his touch after a long 7 days without him.

finally, you were coming home. not that you were really gone that long. but when you’re a flight attendant for 10 different 12 hour long flights, its without a doubt you’ll be tired beyond belief.

you were so excited to see minghao, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with him in your warm bed.

that was, until you called him at least.

you realized you wanted way more.

you facetimed minghao as you stepped into your taxi on the way to your apartment complex, plugging your earbuds into your phone.

“hi baby. im so excited to see you! im about a half hour away.”

“me too, i bet you did so good at work. i got a surprise waiting for you. where are you? driving?” he mumbled, seeming distracted.

“im in a taxi, ill put it on my card though. what are you up to? you sound distracted. could you turn on your cam for me?”

“huh? oh yeah no problem, sorry. i just- damn it! wonwoo, get mingyu! hes right behind you!” minghao shouted, startling you as his loud voice rang through your ears.

you sighed, of course hes playing games.

“is this better?” he asked with a sweet but slightly confused tone.

there he was, your boyfriend. you couldnt even believe he was yours. he wasnt even doing anything, just sitting there with his phone propped up as he yelled at his computer.

“y/n?”

“huh? oh sorry.. you look..”

“great? i know.” he chuckled.

great was an understatement. hes heavenly. with his black fitted tank top, his sunglasses resting on top of his black cap.

you pressed your thighs together at the way his muscles flexed whenever he gripped his mouse.

minghao glanced over at you, smirking lazily as he lit up a cigarette he pulled from his desk drawer.

“smoking again?”

“coulda smoked with you if you were already here.”

“im not a stoner like you. its occasional.”

“isnt today an occasion?”

“...”

you both kept it short, with you being the one to hang up seeing as you were in semi public and totally not because you were growing more and more horny seeing minghao in that stupid tank top.

you made sure to tip the driver before you had rushed to the entrance of the building, barely able to wait any longer to see minghao (amongst other things).

you opened your door to your shared bedroom, and there he was.

“hey baby, how was work?” he asked half minded as he barely turned to notice you.

“it was so damn tiring. missed you.” you mumbled, walking over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving a peck on his cheek.

“yeah missed you too sweet girl. fuck- chan! oh my god, revive me or i swear i wont buy you food for the rest of the month.”

“i thought itd be us today?” you pouted.

“it is, angel. whatever you want pretty baby. just give me a few minutes yeah?”

and so you waited,

and waited.

and waited some more

it felt like an eternity had passed (it was barely over an hour) yet you were growing needier by the second watching the way his muscles flexed, and the way his voice sounded, or especially the way he’d groan and throw his head back whenever he lost.

‘id kill to see him like that while i was doing something else..’ you mumbled

until,

a lightbulb went off in your head

slowly, you made your way to minghaos desk, pecking his soft lips before crawling under the table to kneel in front of him.

“what are you doing angel?” he asked with a warning tone.

“nothing. dont mind me.” you hummed as you reached out to untie the drawstrings on his sweatpants.

“y/n- god. just keep it down wont you?” he whispered looking down at you, then back at his computer screen as he saw a new game was starting.

you smiled to yourself knowing you were getting what you wanted, for the most part.

you pulled down his sweatpants, pressing a kiss on minghaos inner thigh, mumbling a ‘thank you’ as he lifted up his hips to make it easier for you remove the grey piece of clothing.

you kissed up from his knee, all the way up to his bulge before rubbing your thumb over his clothed tip, where a wet patch began to grow.

minghao brought one hand down to your head, gripping your hair. “stop teasing and just take it out already.” he muttered as he brought your face closer to him.

“i thought it was anything i wanted?” you mocked.

he only rolled his eyes and released his grip on your hair to return back to his keyboard.

you pull down his boxers, sighing in contentment as a drop of precum hits your cheek.

slowly, you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around and swallowing what leaked out his slit.

you focused most of your attention on his tip knowing how sensitive he was before going down and taking as much as you could, feeling him deep in your throat.

minghao bit back a choked moan, you were able to feel how his body stiffened up.

“what? yeah im good. i just slammed my hand on my desk.” he brushed it off to his friends.

then, you noticed how hard he was trying to not get caught when you were hardly doing anything. so you wanted to try something — see how far you could go before he snaps.

you bob your head up and down his length, running your hand wherever your mouth couldnt reach.

seeing how he wasnt reacting as much anymore, you slowly pull off his dick. that was, up until you felt your boyfriends tight grip on your hair, moving you the way he wants you.

he held your head still as he fucked up into your mouth, letting out occasional low whimpers.

“hao- seriously, you seem so distracted like we might as well just kick you out the party.” mingyu joked.

“shut up gyu you arent even on our team.”

noticing the conversation between him and his friends, you thought youd stop for a few seconds just to take a breather, before he grips your hair harshly to keep you still, chuckling at how tears formed in the corners of your eyes when he started to thrust his hips up harder against the back of your throat.

“hes kinda right though, you keep dying twice every other round and spend most of your time just standing in the corner.” wonwoo spoke up before everyone else in the team muttered in agreement.

“whatever. im muting, hold on.”

he typed something into his keyboard before removing his headset, and looking down at you.

he stops his movements and releases your hair when you look up at him, his hard dick still resting in your warm mouth.

“what are we gonna do with you, huh sweet angel?”

you whined, rubbing your thighs together before pulling off him and replacing your movements with your hand, stroking him softly, giving him a squeeze.

“god- youre such a fucking brat.” he groaned as you sped up your pace. “fuck- you really couldnt wait an hour?”

“cant. missed you too much. need you so, so badly..” you moaned as you watched the amount of precum leaking from his tip, lowering your head to lick it up.

“yeah? youre an impatient slut huh? couldnt wait for my cock? is that it?” he scoffed.

minghao takes one more puff of the joint he lit earlier before putting it out and throwing away the bud, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling.

he puts his hand over yours, stopping your wrist before whispering in your ear,

“if you dont make me cum in 5 minutes, youre not cumming at all.”

[f4iryyuiirz]

༊*·˚ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡᵉʳ ⁻ ᴰᵉᵃᵈ ᴰᵒᵛᵉ: ᴰᵒ ᴺᵒᵗ ᴱᵃᵗ .ೃ࿐

masterlist

— — — — ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ — — — —

: ̗̀➛ “You’re dead.” Damien would say as it wasn’t really a question. He would just look at his phone, he didn’t even give you a chance to explain. “How’d you find out?” You would whisper, hoping to God that the people right next to you didn’t hear. “Put your earbuds on, you look crazy.” He would say before suddenly disappearing just as fast as he appeared, leaving you alone with Micheal and the rest of the goth kids. .ೃ࿐

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

•°. *࿐ Stan Marsh ༊*·˚ 

“Does Wendy know you’re talking to me? Not that I wouldn’t if she did.”

༊*·˚ Kyle Broflovski *ೃ༄

“Want me to help you study, tonight?”

•°. *࿐ Kenny Mccromick ༊*·˚

"Come on, a few kisses will not ruin our friendship."

༊*·˚ Leopold Stotch *ೃ༄

“Can I sit with you at lunch, today?”

•°. *࿐ Craig Tucker ༊*·˚

“You should come over. Stripe misses you.”

༊*·˚ Clyde Donovan *ೃ༄

“Could you be my tutor? I’m failing math.”

•°. *࿐ Tolkien Black ༊*·˚

“Want me to buy it for you?”

༊*·˚ Tweek Tweak *ೃ༄

“W-We’ll help you l-live your life.”

•°. *࿐ Trent Boyett ༊*·˚

“Ay, you don’t call her a bitch. Want me to beat ‘em for you, baby?”

༊*·˚ Wendy Testaburger *ೃ༄

“Sometimes, you can be so stupid.”

•°. *࿐ Red Tucker ༊*·˚

“What are you talking about? You look great."

༊*·˚ Nichole Daniels *ೃ༄

“Your face is very symmetrical. That’s very important.”

•°. *࿐ Bebe Stevens ༊*·˚

“Can I borrow your lip gloss? I know you threw out the bottle.”

༊*·˚ Gary Harrison *ೃ༄

“Could you stop by later, for family dinner?”

•°. *࿐ Damien Thorn ༊*·˚

“I could help with that. Your virginity, I mean.”

༊*·˚ Phillip Pirrup *ೃ༄

“I mean, there is a way for you to live longer. Ice your body.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

(Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the acts that happen in the story in real life. Please do not romanticize any behaviors or actions described in this story in the real world. Yanderes, in their nature, are incredibly toxic and abusive, so it would just be stupid to wish for that type of relationship in real life. But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the safety of fanfiction. There is no shame in imagining it happening and liking the idea of it, but refusing to participate in that type of situation in real life. If you are currently in a relationship with someone who is mirroring the behaviors written for any of the yandere characters in this story, please seek help. You are not weak for asking for help.)

Other: All trigger warnings will be listed at the beginning of any chapter and right before the trigger starts so please do not skip it. Your mental health is more important than a South Park fanfic. Thank you. 

A/N: The Yandere versions of the characters were inspired by Hellpark.

[marthawrites]

Pretty Girl

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 6.8k+

About: There's been some weird stuff happening in the woods and your boss buys top of the line security cameras. You definitely weren't expecting to hit it off so well with the tech guy who is much more than a tech guy.

Includes: Meeting, first date, some drinking, explicit sexual content (fem receiving oral, p in v)

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is my first modern Aemond story. This idea has been rolling around my head for a good month or two. I wasn't expecting to go so deep, but the ideas kept coming and I ran with them! Reader is nondescript and implied to be 21+ due to alcohol consumption. As always, please enjoy! ♥

read pt 2 here

-

The bright chime of your text tone cut through the mellow voiced narrator of your current podcast obsession: supposed real life horror stories. Perhaps not the smartest thing to listen to while alone ten miles deep into the forest in the ranger's cabin. But, whatever. What's life without a little risk, anyway? Swiping your screen open revealed your boss' message.

Hey kid. Running late. That tech guy is scheduled to be there for the installation at 9:30. We had a minor family emergency here. Everything is fine. I'm working to head out within the hour. Text you when I'm on the road.

It was already 9 and you knew there wasn't a chance in hell Joey would be there by the time the install person showed up. Great. You ran a hand down your face and, since you were alone, didn't fight the groan that adamantly broke free. Customer service – this could be considered customer service, right? – was never your forte. There was a reason you went to school for forestry. Mostly so you wouldn't have to deal with customers on the regular. You texted back:

I'm glad everything is fine! But, if I end up ax murdered by this freak I'm going to haunt you forever. Also, you're to take care of Charles. He's very needy.

A minute later the chime broke the podcaster's voice again:

Oh please. They're a very respectable family. How is a fish needy? Don't they just need tap water?

You laughed out loud, reading the message in Joey's rumbling baritone.

That's right, boss. Tap water and cheerios!

When you didn't hear back from him within the next few minutes you could only assume he started driving.

You had a good twenty minutes to kill while waiting for this person and weren't quite sure how to spend your time. A cool early-spring rain poured all morning, and an angry late-winter wind sent the trees swaying all around. You weren't going out there if you didn't have to. In fact, you threw another log into the wood stove and brewed up a fresh pot of coffee. No reason to stress about trying to look busy when you knew your boss would be doing the same thing if he were here with you waiting.

Once the coffee was finished you fixed yourself a cup and sat by the fire, completely absorbed by the tale in your ear: friends camping with no one else around, being taunted by something. A truly unsettling tale regardless it it were paranormal, a druggie, or a stalker.

A knock on the front door nearly sent the remainder of your hot beverage spilling and your fingers visibly trembled as they touched your earbud to pause the story. Jesus Christ. Did the person arrive in a fucking spaceship? You didn't hear anything coming up the gravel road nor parking in the gravel lot. Taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing nerves, you stood and walked to the door. You cracked it open to the width of your head, just enough to see the person standing on the, thankfully, well covered porch. “Can I help you?”

“Hm. You don't look like a Joey Wagner,” the man on the porch mat said, a single pale brow arching.

Holy shit. He was really handsome. “No. He's my boss. I'm one of the forest rangers beneath him. What can I help you with?” You opened the door wider in an attempt to get a sight of whatever vehicle he showed up in. Despite not having much knowledge in cars, you knew that “T” anywhere. So, you were right: he might as well have shown up in a spaceship.

“I'm Aemond Targaryen. I'm here to install the Vhagar security system and cameras,” he paused and looked around, curious of the exterior of the ranger's lodge and surrounding woods. “I'm.. a... I'm a little surprised you want such a system here.”

“You and me both. Apparently it's your best one, right? I dunno what's been spooking Joey but whatever it is must be pretty weird. That thing's probably my entire yearly salary and then some,” you laughed dryly, gesturing to the briefcase he held. “I'm Y/N,” you added with a smile. “He's running late this morning, but told me you'd be here. I was expecting someone more, uhm...,” you tilted your head and closed one eye as if you were looking at him through a telescope. “Nerdy?” You mused aloud, nose scrunching with the somewhat embarrassing admission.

That sent a grin across his face. His chin tilted up as he regarded you down the long straight line of his nose. “I could say the same about you and forest rangers.”

Beneath your green and tan uniform your skin prickled. Something in you thrummed. This was bad news. Very bad news. When the hell was Joey going to be here? You tried to shake off the sensation his sweeping gaze gave you. He had a long paling scar over his the right side of his angular chiseled face, and there seemed to be something off about his right eye too. You didn't say anything about it and tried not to stare. “Anyway, wanna get started? It's warmer in here, I promise,” you gestured a thumb over your shoulder and swung the door wide so he might step inside.

“Yeah, thanks. It'll take awhile to get all finished. The rest of today and maybe half of tomorrow or so, too,” he admitted as he strode inside.

You whistled lowly at that – at his remark, not his backside – unaware it'd be such an ordeal. “That long?” His hair was long and beautiful in a way you didn't often see men wear their hair; so blonde it was a silvery-white. He had it pulled back in a simple ponytail. It hung a little loose and you couldn't help but wonder if he put it up in haste this morning. Aside from his Adidas shoes (which stuck out adorably, you thought to yourself), he wore all dark colors. Blacks, grays, and only the barest hints of white. Jacket, sweater, the neck of what you assumed was a t-shirt, and straight legged pants. Casually and mindfully layered.

Inside was much warmer, indeed. So much so that Aemond immediately took his jacket off. The simple gesture sent clean laundry and the faintest trace of cologne wafting your way; the fine muscles behind your ears flexed with the reveal. His sweater looked unbearably soft and you hated yourself for being so drawn to a man you literally just met three minutes ago. He was unfairly good-looking, yeah, but what if he was a jerk too because of it? "You weren't lying," he said, giving you a glance from his left side. "It's cozy. Is it just you here?"

You gestured him to follow you through the place. "For now, yeah. Here's the security room. Everything's open and unlocked so you should be able to do whatever you need to. Joey will be here eventually." The room was a little cramped with multiple monitors, desks, cabinets, and general clutter; papers, writing things, wrappers, cups, the like. "Oh shit. Sorry sorry. I should have cleaned it up. I didn't realize the boss left it such a mess," heat rose in your cheeks as you rolled your eyes, annoyed.

"I'm not worried," he replied calmly, seemingly unbothered by the mess. Taking advantage of a clean space you just cleaned, he placed the briefcase atop it and opened it up. With your back to him he found himself giving you another glance or two, grinning privately. How could someone make that uniform look so good?

"Care for coffee or water?" You asked, all the counter space now clear of clutter. Various wrappers crinkled in your pockets and you held four empty cups between both hands.

"Coffee, please. Black," he answered.

You pushed the door further open with the help of your foot and butt, leaving Aemond alone to get started on the lengthy process. Once in the kitchen you gave yourself a few extra minutes to collect yourself. Frankly, you felt half-silly for being so enamored by this tall, lithe, long haired stranger. He probably had a girlfriend back home!

"Here you are," you said upon returning, placing a mug down for him.

"Thank you," he said, turning his gaze up to you appreciatively. "Do you ever see weird things on these in the middle of the night?"

Instead of sitting down you opted to stand with one hand on your hip and the other flat atop the desk. You leaned against the edge and turned your head to look over the various monitors in an attempt to not stare at him. "Sometimes," you answered honestly, weighing how much you wanted to divulge. "Lights with no apparent light source are a more common occurance. Sick animals can look extremely strange," you paused and chuckled nervously. "Of course, there's always random homeless people, vagabonds, and even drunk or drugged out people." From your peripheral you realized he hadn't taken his eyes off you and it sent a shudder of embarrassment down your back. Did you have something on your face? "What?" You asked, turning your attention to him, then, breath catching in your throat.

It was his turn for color to creep in his cheeks. "Ugh. I was staring, huh? Sorry. You're just, uh... really pretty," he said, caught and guilty, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was expecting a Joey to match that deep voice on the phone. Not like a Dawson's Creek Joey."

Before you had a chance to reply the front door swung open and the booming voice of the actual Joey called, "hey, hey, so sorry to be late! Damn dog killed another squirrel and my youngest was the one to find it. Poor thing nearly had a panic attack."

"Oh damn. Sorry to hear that, boss," you hollered back, cringing.

"Hard lessons for kids to learn," he said, appearing in the doorway sipping on his own cup. He was a big man and easily took up the whole width of it, and the chair he sat upon groaned beneath his weight. "Enough of that though! If it isn't Aemond Targaryen of Dragon Security! I was surprised as shit to hear it'd be you installing these. Don't you normally have grunts to do this work?"

Aemond chuffed and shook the older man's massive hand. "Usually, yeah. My dad's fixing to retire soon and my older brother doesn't want to take up the mantle. So here I am doing boots-on-the-ground training to get a feel of things before taking his place."

"Good boy! You'll be the youngest wealthiest mother fucker around!" He belly laughed and clapped his free hand atop Aemond's. "Now! Walk me through this. This ain't no joke. There's been some wild shit going on and I intend to catch whatever it is. If I get famous I'll be sure to mention you too, boy," he drank half his coffee in a single chug and put his game face on.

"I've got rounds to make. I'll check on you guys in a couple hours," you said with a grin. You lingered on Aemond a moment longer. When you caught his gaze you give him a little look, letting him know you heard him and thought similairly. At least, you hoped that's what you silently communicated.

You never believed in love at first sight. But, lust at first sight? Maybe that's what burned low in your belly.

Through the single window he watched you jump into one of the ranger's newer model orange jeeps. A perfect ride for out here, he thought, distracted as you backed the wrangler out and drove away – a stark difference to his Tesla.

-

Your rounds took much longer than originally anticipated and you didn't return until nearly 5 o'clock. Thankfully, the turn of seasons was happening and it was still light outside. Pulling in to park you were surprised to see Aemond's car still in the same spot. It seemed the day was longer than anticipated all around! With the assistance of your visor mirror you took your hair down and ran your fingers through it, glad to finally let it fall free after a day's work. Joey was still here too, and you wanted to at least say bye to him before leaving for the night. You hopped out and started making your way in that direction.

"I'm right here, don't let me startle you," the unfamiliar voice of Aemond called from the tree line. Thank God he said something because he would have startled you out there.

You let out a half strangled laugh. "Thanks for the heads up. But, what are you doing?" You asked, curious steps walking in his direction. He was on a ladder about halfway up a tree. Each time he reached up the hem of his shirt lifted to flash a peek of the pale skin of his lean abdomen and slender hips. Damnit. He must have ditched his sweater sometime ago for he only wore his plain white t-shirt now.

"Just finishing getting the cameras up. Twenty-four in total across the nearest five miles or so," he replied with a final click. "There." Despite the chilly temperature sweat still glistened on his face and neck. He tipped his head down and rolled his bicep up at the same time, using the arm of his tee to wipe his brow. As he came down the ladder you saw his ponytail was replaced by a sloppy bun instead. Loose strands stuck to the dampness of his skin, and some of the more wispy fly-aways stuck out at varying directions. If you thought him handsome before, he, somehow, was even more so now.

"Joey made you do that all by yourself!?" Five miles of carrying ladders and equipment? You wanted to smack your boss.

He shook his head as he landed on both feet, momentarily breathless. "No. We've been together until just, oh, maybe fifteen minutes ago. Wife called him," he gestured to the lodge.

"Oh. Good! I was gonna kick his ass." Secondhand tiredness crept into your bones. "I'm gonna go say bye before heading out. Need help with anything?"

He shook his head for a second time. "I don't think so. Mostly just want to get back to the hotel and shower. I feel disgusting." Lifting up the neckline of his shirt he used it to wipe his face dry, thankful to finally be on the ground to do so without fear of falling off. "And I am starving. What's the best place to eat around here?"

Was he fishing or were you wishing? "There's a really good sandwich place just as you're getting into town. That's where I'm stopping to get dinner anyway," you smiled, belly rumbling loudly in answer.

He sighed contentedly at the idea. "I'll be hitting it up, thanks. If I didn't have to stay and finish a few things I'd ask to meet you there, but...," he paused, eyeing your reaction. You didn't say anything, yet he must have caught the excited glimmer in your eyes. "Maybe next time."

You smiled and unintentionally fluffed your hair up from the roots, hip propped out with your casual stance. "Sounds fun. Good night, Aemond. Drive safe," you said before turning and walking with a little too much purpose to the lodge, gravel crunching beneath your heavy work boots.

"Hey, Y/N," he called after you after a moment, long strides closing the distance between you. When you stopped and let him catch up, he asked, "can I get your number? So I can warn you when I'm here tomorrow. You looked a little scared this morning. Don't wanna do that again." His features remained neutral. His eyes (eye? that one seemed almost completely unresponsive and you weren't sure if it was even real), however, sparked with a mischief that sent your stomach flipping. Obviously you barely knew the guy, but you swore his voice dropped a little lower with the new closeness.

You exhaled. "I was that obvious? Dang. I was hoping I played it off more cool," you tsked yourself beneath your breath, pulling your phone from its pocket. He did the same and you both swiped them open to exchange numbers. His thumb tapped a few times on the screen and your phone dinged. 'Aemond' appeared at the top and a single dragon emoji was the only thing his text read. Despite yourself, you smirked.

"See you in the morning, ranger girl."

-

The next morning you found yourself fixing another fire and pot of coffee, peacefully idle and waiting for the others to arrive. Your phone chimed. It was a message and photo from Aemond.

Hope you're hungry. The girls at your fave sandwich place knew your order. On my way now.

Attached was a photo of a paper food bag seat belted into his passenger seat. Something more than excitement rose in your belly and you actually giggled. Handsome and sweet? No way he was single.

Fifteen minutes later he arrived with a soft knock. "You didn't have to get me breakfast. Way too kind of you, honestly."

He squinted and smirked softly. "Good morning to you as well." He stepped inside and closed the door behind, happy to be where it was warm. "It really wasn't a bother. Gives me an excuse to spend a little more time with you," he winked.

"Were your ears tingling last night? I only thought about texting you fifty times, at least," you admitted, flirting back.

"Should have. Hotels by yourself are terribly boring."

You two ate fully loaded breakfast sandwiches and you were more than a little surprised he ate all of his. Those things were huge! Before any time at all passed, it was already noon and you and Aemond had chatted the morning away in the security room. Everything seemed to be working well. He'd done a fantastic job at setting the cameras up yesterday and Joey beamed in excitement.

"I need to do my rounds before I don't. Catch you both later," you said reluctantly.

Just as you were stepping out of the room, Aemond called after you, "hey Y/N! Before you go..." His face spelled mischief. You arched a brow at him, waiting. "About Lord of the Rings and Frodo's journey...," – your conversation a few tangents ago – "why didn't Gandalf just call the eagles for them to fly to Mordor? Seems like that would have been a lot faster and smarter."

You were dumbfounded. "Excuse me?" You asked, fluttering a series of blasphemous blinks at him. "Seriously Aemond? And here I thought we were vibing. We're not friends anymore." You slammed the door but not before flipping him off. With both middle fingers. In the hallway you snorted and laughed in disbelief.

The door did little to block Aemond and Joey's uproar of laughter.

Handsome, sweet, and a jerk in good humor? How dare him!

-

The next day you didn't hear from Aemond, and you weren't going to lie to yourself: it kind of sucked. Despite knowing him for so brief a time, you missed him!

Thankfully, it was time for your weekend though. It was full dark by now and you were worn out from the week. You quickly changed into pajamas and flopped on your bed to find something to watch. Settling on reruns of one of your favorite shows, you found yourself staring at the black screen of your phone. Should you text him? As if your thoughts had traveled miles away right into Aemond's brain, it chimed with his message.

Hey ranger girl. I wanted to swing by the lodge today but wasn't able to. I'm in town for a few more days and was wondering if I could take you out to dinner before I go?

Holy shit holy shit holy shit. You texted back embarrassingly fast.

Only if you swear to never talk bad about LotR again.

Pinky promise. Tonight?

You looked down at yourself and snorted.

Definitely not, sorry. Tomorrow?

Yes. God I can't wait to see you out of that dorky uniform.

You had nothing appropriate to say and left him on read, lest you say something humiliating you'd regret.

-

The following evening was a clear cool night and you were glad you wore pants instead of a dress, and a leather jacket instead of a cardigan. Part of you was sad to leave the toasty confines of your 4-Runner, but it quickly dissolved once you saw Aemond standing outside the bar and grill restaurant talking to someone on his phone. He wore an elevated version of the outfit you originally met him in. What caught you off-guard, however, was his hair. Those long silvery-white tresses were pulled back into an intricate braid and you couldn't help but gawk. He looked devastatingly handsome. You saw him notice you, and butterflies turned in your belly at the heat and weight of his gaze.

"A leather jack and red lipstick? How did you know that was my favorite?" he asked as you hopped up next to him, twirling playfully for his attention. "Shit, you're lovely. I'm so glad you said yes to this."

You smiled at him, pretty white teeth beaming as you tired to reel your excitement in. "So are you. I'm going to have to sit on your lap so no other girls think you're free for the taking," you half cooed, black lashes giving your eyes an opened appearance that only elevated your playfulness.

He hummed and gave you a long look, tilting his head in direction of the entrance. "You'll get no argument." He reached out and you took his hand, suddenly bashful as his long fingers laced between yours. His palm was very warm; thoughts and images filled your mind of those hands all across your bare skin. The natural bow of his mouth lifted in a little smirk.

The restaurant was fairly busy tonight: you were lucky to snag a booth by the window. You both ordered a drink and agreed to skip the appetizer to instead indulge on something from their dessert menu. Him, an old fashioned bourbon, and you, a gin with pomegranate liqueur and lemon juice. Conversation flowed easily while you waited, the ambiance of the restaurant absorbing both of you in with ease.

With the help of a little liquid courage, you found yourself asking a question that'd been on your mind since first meeting. "I gotta ask," you started, looking over the scarred half of his face curiously. "What happened?" You gestured over your own face letting him know what you meant.

He briefly bit at his bottom lip. "Childhood accident," he answered with a sigh. "It was pretty brutal, actually," he added with a dry half-laugh. "One of my nephews got me with a knife. We were wild boys. Them moreso than me, but still, wild like boys can get. I ended up loosing my right eye and opted to get a prosthetic one instead of having an empty socket."

You gasped, truly in shock, and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "Oh my God, Aemond. That's horrible."

He wasn't hot or sweaty, but your skin was delightfully cooler than his and he got more comfort out of it than you realized. "It was. The scar actually looks much better now than in the past. I've learned to live with it well enough. Driving is sometimes a struggle because of it, though. That was a big learning curve."

The waiter came back for your food order. Aemond chose the pork tenderloin with apricot almond chutney, herb roasted potatoes, and broccoli, and you chose the crusted ahi with cucumber, bell pepper, and red onion salad topped with a ginger soy vinaigrette – with no onion. Red onions, raw or cooked, destroyed your palette.

Both of your drinks were nearly gone by then; you couldn't speak for Aemond, but you were definitely feeling looser. Not drunk by any means, but a warm buzz that blushed your cheeks, hooded your eyes, and made your smile all the easier. "So, Aemond Targaryen of Dragon Security, what else do you do in and outside of your work?"

"You looking like that across from me is making focus very difficult," he replied, idly trailing the tip of his finger around the rim of his glass. He leaned back and flashed you a little smirk, the lovely color of his eye seeming to shrink. "It's a family business. We make high quality security cameras. My brother's invention, the Sunfyre system, specializes in daytime monitoring, and my sister's invention, the Dreamfyre system, specializes in nighttime monitoring." He sipped at his drink, wetting his lips with the smooth, fragrant liquor. "And mine, the Vhagar system, takes and elevates both. The beefest and strongest system by far. So, whatever your boss wants to find in those woods, he'll have the absolute best chance with what I set up for him."

You listened, genuinely interested, and did your very best to focus on his words and not the he sat across from you. "Honestly that's an entirely different world than anything I know," you shook your head amusedly. "Gross rich people stuff."

You continued talking about it until your meal came. It looked and smelled divine. "I'll check on you again shortly," the waiter said with a wide handsome smile.

Sticking out like a sore thumb was a pile of red onions atop your salad. All it took was a single glance between you and Aemond for him to know you wouldn't mention anything about it to the waiter – instead choosing to pluck them off your plate and try to enjoy your dinner regardless.

He wasn't about to let that happen. "She asked for no onions," Aemond said flatly up to the other man, one of his pale brows arching up in silent judgment.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Let me have them remake it for you," the waiter said apologetically, disappearing with the plate quicker than you could say it's okay.

You wanted to sink down into the booth and disappear. Before you could stop giggling, and before Aemond could wipe the smug expression off his face, your new plate arrived. As well as a refill of your drinks.

"Her entree and both beverages are on the house tonight," the waiter said brightly as he placed everything down. You reached for the drink and sipped appreciatively.

"Just a refill for the lady, thank you. I'm driving," Aemond said with a hint of that same expression as before. That worked for the waiter and he was off again, busy with other tables. "Hey," he muttered to you, lower and softer than you've heard him before. He scooted closer to the window and patted the spot next to him. "Come sit by me, pretty girl."

An excited blush crept into your cheeks as you did so, and you leaned your knee against his beneath the table. His free arm draped across the back of the booth, engulfing you with the warmness of himself. You both ate and chatted, and you found out he travels far and wide. "French is my favorite language," you admitted blissfully. "So lovely to listen to. I can't speak it for the life of me, but listening to it?" You made an approving gesture with your hand.

"I don't quite have the accent down, but I'm fairly fluent in it...," he said, low and husky, as he tipped his head closer to yours. He whispered by your ear, and his breath fanning across your skin tickling your spine. "Je veux parler français entre tes cuisses."

A satisfied sigh escaped your lungs. You reveled in the way the natural rasp of his voice sounded with the language. "What did you say?"

"I want to speak french between your thighs."

A breath caught in your throat and you nearly choked on it. "Shut the fuck up. You did not just say that," you sputtered, immediately turning your head to meet his gaze.

He chuckled, palm trailing across your thigh beneath the table. "I did say that. And I do mean it."

"Aemond Targaryen...," you whispered in return, looking him square in the eye. You were pleasantly buzzed and the courage it gave you prompted your next movements. "Let's say we get out of here and you can show me that boring hotel room of yours." With a tilt of your head you slowly pressed your mouth to his, kissing him with the fire that began building in your core.

He hummed into the kiss and deepened the affection, holding the side of your neck with a need of his own. Pulling away, he quickly laid more than enough cash on the table, not bothering to wait for the tab.

The smear of your lipstick matched the faint stain of it on his own lips as he lead you out of the restaurant.

-

In the room, Aemond closed the door with a deliberate click and wasted little time in pushing you up against the nearest wall; your arms draped over his shoulders all the while, lips barely leaving each other. "You have no idea how bad I've wanted to do this since I first saw you at the lodge," he rasped against your mouth, kissing down your chin and throat with sloppy need. His hands were somehow all over you at once: waist, hips, ass, throat, everywhere.

You gasped, arching between him and the wall, shuddering in anticipation and excitement alike. "You should have," you murmured in reply, hands tugging off his jacket in near desperation. "I almost had a heart attack when I saw your hair in that stupid bun. I should have taken your clothes off to help you cool down right then and there," you teased in response.

A groan came from the back of his throat. "Je suis peut-être tombé amoureux," I might have fallen in love he rumbled with a smirk. You didn't know what he said but you also didn't care, because next thing you knew his teeth sunk into the slope of your neck and shoulder and you moaned. "Like being bitten?" He asked, doing it again in a slightly different spot.

"Yeah," you managed to gasp out, turning your head to entice him along. His laugh vibrated against your neck as he sucked the sensitive skin between his teeth, aiming to leave a mark. "Hey!" You gasped, giggling.

"Not gonna let you forget this, pretty girl." He tore your jacket off and threw it near his, already gripping the hem of your shirt. "Plan to make you feel it tomorrow," he added smugly, lifting your shirt off and tossing it aside. You wore one of your fun bras, lace and straps accenting the curve of your bust. "Oh, fuck, look at these beautiful tits," he groaned again, immediately bending to kiss and lick over your bare cleavage.

"You're a big talker. Are you sure you can follow through with all of that?" You questioned as if your skin wasn't already goosebumped, nipples weren't already pebbled with need, and the apex of your thighs wasn't already hot with the primal desire to be fucked and stuffed full.

He growled with your challenge, single eye looking down at you darkly. "That's the plan." In three motions he wrapped an arm around your waist, turned with you flush to him, and stepped to push you onto the bed. You landed heavily, thighs clenching as you watched him discard his shirt. He was long and lean like a swimmer, with a pale patch of hair at the center of his chest and trailing below his navel to disappear beneath his pants. A new wave of warmth pooled between your thighs and your pants felt much too tight.

"Stronger than you look too, Targaryen," you taunted, squeezing your thighs together. You looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes. Lust burned through your blood and you couldn't help the heave of your breasts.

Both his hands moved to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants to ease some of the pressure on his obvious arousal. He made no move to do anything else. "You're a big talker too." Kneeling at the edge of the bed he pulled you further down the mattress, calculating and amused. You helped him help you out of your pants, hips squirming so he could pull them down your legs. Carefully, he parted your legs and laughed a deep mocking sound. "I haven't even touched you and you're wet through your panties. So needy," he crooned, thumb barely grazing down the line of your covered slit.

You shivered, unaware and unable to bite back a whimper. "Aemond...," you gasped, the shocks his touch gave you sparking yet even more heat to pool inside you.

"And sensitive," he purred, watching your face as he continued to slowly trace along you; heavy eyed and smeared lipstick made you look all the more adorable. "Si amusant à manger. Embrasser. Lécher." So fun to eat. To kiss. To lick. He kissed the inside of your thighs in punctuation, the sounds of them sending embers up your spine. Wide hands trailed up and down your legs, over your belly, across your hips. He kissed your covered mound until the full length of your legs tightened.

"Take 'em off... move 'em to the side. Something," you panted, eyes already threatening to unfocus with the tantalizing teasing.

He had nothing to say, his mind just as clouded with lust as your own. Tugging the damp center of your panties to the side, he licked a long line up through your soaked, silky folds, groaning a hitched sound from the center of his throat.

You rolled up against him while your hands flew down to his head, fingers sinking through the smoothness of his intricate braid. Pleasure left your parted mouth.

A little moan of his own answered yours. Lick, suck, kiss. Over and over again with varying speeds and pressure, pulling more of those lovely sounds from your pretty mouth. The combination was nearly obscene; wet, lewd, eager. He carelessly pulled your panties full off and discarded them.

"Oh my God...," you drawled, gripping into his hair as he continued his delightful assault on every part of your pussy. Sucking your clit, sinking his tongue inside your saturated walls, licking over everything as if his own orgasm depended on it.

Stopping for only a moment, he reached up to the front of your bra and pulled the cups down to send your breasts spilling free. He palmed over them roughly, squeezing the soft flesh until you hissed between your teeth, body arching for his mouth's attention once more. He pinched at your nipples as his head dipped down again, hot tongue and handsome lips going right back to work.

"Yes... please, fuck! I'm so close!" Your core burned and tightened, and you were past caring if anyone in the neighboring rooms heard you.

"That's right... be a good girl and come so I can really fuck you," he hummed, delving right back in until you were trembling beneath him.

The intensity of your climax left your fingers tingling and toes curling as your thighs squeezed around his head. You were sure you'd rip some of his hair out, but the near desperate groan that left his throat told you he fucking loved it. He eased his actions on you but never truly stopped, increasing and lengthening the waves of your pleasure as you rode them out.

Once you were done, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, he finally stood and joined you on the bed. "Open the front pocket of my bag right there. Yeah, that one. Grab the condom for me," he said as he kissed over your jaw and neck, beginning to shift out of his own pants.

"I have an IUD. We're not using that bullshit," you replied cheekily, helping him out of his pants. He kicked them off and his briefs followed, and you instantly saw why he made sure you came first. Not only did he have a beautiful cock, but it was big.

"Fuck, babe, you're gonna let me come in your pretty pussy?" He asked, gripping your body to roll you onto your belly.

You moved with his prompts and nodded. "Yeah," you said and looked up at him from over your shoulder, shifting your legs to prop your ass up. It accentuated the natural curve of your spine and that sight alone would have gotten him hard.

With one hand he held onto the soft meat of your hip while the other held himself, lining up with your hot little cunt that was on full display for him. He inched in, drawing back once half of him had sunk into you, only to plunge into you all at once. "Shit...," he hissed, grip denting harshly into your flesh.

You fisted the sheets, whimpering at the absolute fullness of his cock buried in you. While nestled in you, he unclasped the back of your bra and helped you out of it, briefly lingering on the faint lines it left on your skin; an odd sort of intimacy making him appreciate the sight. "Take me," you whispered, breathless, belly slowly building up with a new coil of bliss.

Pulling his hips back, he snapped them forward against you. "Taking me so well, pretty girl," he praised. Using both hands, now, he propped you up into a better position, steadily rocking into you as he did so. The sounds that poured from your mouth were a mix of elation and lust, desire taking hold of all your senses as your body yielded to his intrusion. The way he slid in and out of you, the way your tight walls gripped around him, and the way the muffled whines that came from you each time he rammed into your deepest parts made him half insane. "Getting sooo messy, baby," his words were accented by his pelvis slamming against your upturned ass; sticky, squelching, skin on skin.

You were embarrassingly close again, eyes rolled closed. "Feels so good," you cooed from beneath, mind fully drunk on him.

"Yeah? Gonna fuck your pretty face into the mattress. Can't have you so loud that someone comes knocking," he said as he fisted into your hair, turning your head into the blankets and pillows that smelled like him. His pace grew faster, sloppier, and you knew he had to be close too. That deep sensitive spot inside you was being absolutely bullied; cockhead slammed against and past it, meeting your deepest wall, only to drag backwards along it, over and over.

"Aemond!" The mattress muffled your cry of pleasure and your second peak left you numb and weightless, mind totally blank save for the man who drove you there.

With a final push he drove into you with a guttural groan. The full length of him twitched inside your pulsating walls, coating your insides with his release. An obscene mixture of your creamy arousal and his seed oozed out from around him to dribble onto the bed. You both laughed in the aftershocks, static buzzing your brain as the lewd, heady scents of sex filled the air around you.

"Fuck, that felt good," he rasped, slowly pulling out of you and watching his cum leak from your core. "I'll get us a towel in a minute. I just need to catch my breath," he added with a lazy, glorious smile, laying flat on his back with momentary exhaustion.

You laid on your belly beside him, taking in the angles of his face and how they softened in his post-sex bliss. "No. Not yet. I'm not finished with you yet," you said slyly, pushing yourself up to flip a leg over his middle. You bent and kissed him, pushing your fingers through the damp hair from his hairline to his crown, braid no longer neat. Already half hard again, it didn't take long for him to catch his breath beneath you; fiery and refueled from your display of sensuality.

"What about you car?" He asked, biting the top of your shoulder.

"What about it? We can get it in the morning. I wanna ride this big cock."

There very well might have been some noise complaints from his room that night. Neither of you cared. Once you were both finally satisfied to the point of silliness, sleep came easy. When the morning came and he drove you back to the restaurant? You were mesmerized at how his features glowed golden with the cloudless sun.

"A 4-Runner? Lots more room in there than mine...," he teased and gave you a questioning look, testing the waters.

You hummed thoughtfully, returning his look. "Well, yeah. But, might need to put it to the test. Just to, you know, see which one is better."

-

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[justagalwhowrites]

Homecoming - DBF!Joel x Female Reader

It's been years since you moved away from home but you never stopped wishing your dad's best friend Joel Miller saw you as something more. Request from @reds-ramblings!

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU, legal age gap (Joel is 40 you are 26), SMUTTTTTTT oral (f receiving), p in v sex, one shot. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only!

Length: 4.4k (sorry guys, I got carried away)

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling of your childhood bedroom. It was still that popcorn shit. Your mom had redone most of the house since you’d moved out but your room was still intact. Still had the movie posters, the caricatures of you with your best friends from trips to Six Flags in the summer, the mountain of stuffed animals that were covered in a fine layer of dust in a hammock that hung from the ceiling. 

It was a little like being in a museum, relics of who you’d been a decade ago when you’d first moved into this house in the Austin suburbs with your parents. You hadn’t known how to drive yet when you moved in here. You were a different person now. A different person who lived in Chicago and had a job you loved and still came running home to your childhood bedroom when shit got hard. 

You sighed, bouncing a tennis ball off the popcorn ceiling. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered, getting up and rifling through your suitcase. 

Your parents weren’t home. They wouldn’t be for a few more days - too busy lying on a beach in Maui - so you had the place to yourself. At least there was the pool. 

You found the sluttiest bikini you had since you’d be too embarrassed to wear it around your parents anyway but dammit you’d bought the stupid thing so you were going to wear it. You slid into it, admiring yourself in the mirror for a second. This would have looked way better on a beach in the Caribbean. This was a swim suit meant to make a man fuck you in the ocean. It was not a swim suit meant to be worn in your parents’ pool. But you needed something to feel good about. 

You put your earbuds in and pulled up your favorite playlist, dancing a little as you put on the gauzy white coverup, straw hat and flip flops before heading downstairs. 

It was almost like the shuffle mode on your playlist was reading your mind. Lizzo came on just as you made it to the kitchen and you turned it up as loud as you couldn’t without fully deafening yourself. 

“Why men great ’til they gotta be great?” You more yelled it than sang it, grabbing the tortilla chips and salsa you’d picked up on your way to the house the day before. You went into the freezer next, grabbing the frozen margarita pouch. 

“You coulda had a bad bitch, noncommittal,” you nudged the drawer closed with your leg. “Help you…HOLY SHIT.” 

You almost leapt out of your skin, dropping the plastic container of salsa and the bag of margarita to the tile floor. You clutched your heart that felt like it was threatening to burst out of your chest with one hand and tore your earbuds out with the other. 

Joel Miller was leaning against the counter, watching you and smiling, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” You panted, dropping the earbuds to the counter before leaning against it to keep from falling over. “What the fuck, man?” 

“Don’t stop on my account,” he smiled a little wider. “You were puttin’ on a great show…” 

“Ha ha,” you glared at him. 

“No, really, stadium quality performance there, Princess,” he said. “I’d buy tickets…” 

You rolled your eyes before bending over and picking up the mercifully still intact containers of salsa and frozen margarita, trying to not think about the fact that you were in the sluttiest bikini you’d ever owned in front of Joel fucking Miller. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend. Joel Miller, guy who lived across the street. Joel Miller, man you’d basically been in love with since you were 16 years old. 

How was it that he’d gotten better looking? There should be limits on this shit, men who were as gorgeous as Joel Miller shouldn’t be allowed to get hotter as they aged. His graying hair made him look experienced, wiser somehow. The wrinkles around his eyes made his already gorgeous chocolate brown gaze look softer and sweeter. It was a dangerous combination. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, heart rate returning to normal. Or, normal for when Joel was in your immediate vicinity, anyway. 

“Your dad told me I could borrow a ladder,” he shrugged. “Said it was in the shed out back. Told me to let myself in. DIdn’t mention you’d be here. Promise I wasn’t trying to scare you.” 

“What kind of contractor doesn’t have a ladder?” You frowned. “Sounds like you’re falling down on the job, Miller.” 

“I don’t have it at my house because I left it on a job, Princess,” he stepped closer, smile shifting to more of a cocky smirk. “But needed one at home and didn’t really feel like drivin’ clear across Austin to pick it up. 

“But that’s beside the point, what are you doing here?” He asked. “Ain’t you some big time city girl now?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Just decided to come home for a visit,” you replied. 

“While your parents are on vacation,” he said, skeptical. You narrowed your eyes at him. “C’mon, what’s goin’ on.” 

You sighed and groaned a little. 

“I was supposed to be in The Bahamas this week,” you said. “Booked it a few months back.” 

“So why aren’t you in The Bahamas this week?” He asked after you were silent for a minute. You rapped your fingers on the counter, nails clacking on the granite. 

“I got dumped, alright?” You groaned. “It was supposed to be a trip with my now ex for our one year anniversary but we broke up a month ago and now he’s in The Bahamas with Laurel from accounting.” 

“Shit,” Joel’s face fell a little. “I’m sorry that…” 

“It’s fine,” you sighed. “I wasn’t really that into him, honestly. I was surprised we lasted as long as we did. But I wasn’t about to sit in Chicago in April when I’d already bought enough bikinis to last a week on the beach. And hey at least there’s a fucking pool and it’s above freezing here.” 

When you mentioned the bikinis, his eyes finally left your face, quickly trailing up and down your body before looking back at your face. 

“He’s a fuckin’ idiot, Princess,” he said. “Promise there are better ones out there than that and lord knows you deserve better.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled a little. “Anyway, you’re here for a ladder, not to keep me company.” 

“Depends,” he nodded at the margarita pouch. “Got another one of those?” 

You scoffed. 

“C’mon,” you went into the freezer and grabbed another pouch. “The hell do you take me for?” 

You poured the drinks into the plastic margarita glasses your mom had bought for a party when you were a teenager and handed one to Joel before you both went outside. Joel sat on a lounge chair but you set your glass down on the edge of the pool, stepped out of your flip flops and draped your coverup on a chair next to him. 

“You’re getting in?” He asked. “Thought that was more of a… layin’ around swim suit thing you girls like to wear.” 

“Didn’t fly across the country to not get the suit wet,” you glanced over your shoulder at him. His eyes immediately rose from your ass to your face as you did. “You’re welcome to join me.” 

You jumped in the water, sinking down to the bottom, water so cold that it made your nipples harden and press against the thin fabric of the suit. You swam back to the surface and to the edge of the pool, grabbing your margarita. Joel was watching you. 

“You coming in or not?” You teased. 

“Don’t think I feel like goin’ and getting changed,” he said. 

“Never said you had to,” you said, taking a sip of your drink. “Come on. You saw me dancing around my parents kitchen and heard my sob story. I think I can see you in your underwear.” 

He looked away from you for a moment, a twitch in his jaw, before he shook his head for a moment. 

“Alright, Princess,” he stood up and pulled off his shirt in one fluid movement. You were trying not to stare. It’s not like you’d never seen him without a shirt before. He’d been swimming at your house with your parents before. He took his shirt off when mowing the lawn and you’d peer through your window and watch him when you were a teenager. But this was the first time he’d taken his shirt off because you wanted him to and that fact almost made his biceps seem more sculpted, his chest more beautiful. His hands went to his jeans as he stepped out of his boots. He unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, starting to pull the denim down. “Your wish, my command.” 

“That is how I like it,” you took another drink. 

He stripped out of his jeans and down to his black boxer briefs. You resisted the urge to lick your lips at the sight of him, just a thin layer of fabric covering his thick, long cock. 

You shook yourself mentally. Yes, you’d had a crush on Joel for 10 years. Yes, you wanted him to fuck you six ways from Sunday. Yes, it looked like his cock would be far and away the largest you’d ever had. But he was your dad’s best friend and 14 years older than you. His daughter was closer to your age than he was. Nothing was going to happen. 

He jumped in the water, purposely landing close enough to you to splash you with it and you laughed, wiping the chlorinated water from your eyes. 

“Fuck that’s cold,” he said when he came up. “Feelin’ like you got me in here under false pretenses…” 

You swam for a bit, catching up on life, drinking your margaritas. Joel told you about Sarah, how she was doing at A&M and about one client he’d been stuck with who kept changing shit half way through the project. 

“Swear to God the next time this woman changes her tile, I’m driving off a fuckin’ bridge,” he said. 

You told him about your life in Chicago. The promotion you’d just gotten at work, the fact that you’d become enough of a regular at the bar down the street from your apartment that the bartenders knew you now. 

You’d been in the water long enough that your drinks were long empty and your fingertips were starting to prune, leaning against the edge of the pool with your arms propped on the ledge, close enough that your elbows touched. 

Joel’s eyes ran over you, from your hairline to your face to your throat to your chest. Your nipples were still peaked against your suit and your wet hair clung to your neck. 

“What?” You asked, smiling a little. 

“Any plans later?” He asked. “Can’t have you sittin’ at home all by your lonesome when you were supposed to be havin’ a good time this week.” 

“Offering to show me a good time?” You teased. 

“Don’t tell your dad that,” he teased back. “But I’m going out with some of Tommy’s friends later. Think you’d have fun if you wanted to come along. Just some drinking, music, dancing. Usual shit. Assuming you don’t have plans with any old friends from school or somethin’.” 

“Ah yes, my vibrant social life in high school,” you said, smirking a little. 

You’d been a wallflower before you went to college. You hadn’t fit in well with your classmates, you hadn’t really grown into your body yet - all awkward limbs and unruly hair. College had been your chance to reinvent yourself and you’d leaned into it. You still remembered the first time you came home on break from school your freshman year. 

You and your roommate, Carolyn, had become fast friends and she was easily the most fashionable person you’d ever met. She’d helped you come into your own in your first semester away and you’d basically replaced every item of clothing in your closet with finds from every thrift store within a 20 mile radius of Northwestern. You’d changed your hair, figured out that blue eyeshadow was NOT your thing and just started feeling more confident. 

That Christmas break, you had just grabbed a package off the porch for your mom and were carrying it around to the garage to stash where your dad wouldn’t find it when Joel stopped you. 

“Hey,” he said, sounding a bit defensive as he jogged over to you. “That yours?” 

You stopped, frowning, before turning to face him. His eyes went wide. 

“I mean, it’s my mom’s…” 

“Shit, I’m sorry Princess,” he said, looking you up and down. “Didn’t even recognize you! Must be liking Chicago…” 

You definitely liked your new sense of style even more after that. 

“I’d be down to go out,” you said. “Better than playing catch against my ceiling all night.”

“Pick you up in two hours?” He said. “We’ll hit the town.” 

Once Joel left with the ladder, you focused on calming yourself down while getting ready to go. 

Yes, it was Joel. Yes, he might have checked you out a bit in the pool. Yes, you’d do more than you were really comfortable admitting to get him into bed. But he was still Joel, your neighbor and your dad’s best friend. That made him pretty much off limits. 

Right? 

You’d brought a few of the dresses you’d bought for The Bahamas and you slipped into the one that hugged your curves in just the right way. Just in case. 

“Shit, Princess,” Joel said when you answered the door. “Think you might be a bit overdressed for this crowd.” 

“I can change,” you frowned. 

“No!” He said quickly. Then cleared his throat. “No, don’t… Don’t worry about it.”

Joel drove you to a bar with live music and a table full of people he seemed to know about half of. Tommy, his brother, clapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear that made Joel glare at him. 

He’d been right, though, it was fun. You stuck close to Joel at first, bodies near enough that your arm would brush his chest if you picked up your beer. But then one of Tommy’s friends asked you to dance and pulled you onto the dance floor. His name was Jim and you were pretty sure he was closer to Joel’s age than Tommy’s. His hands slid down your body, pulling your hips against his as you moved with him. Joel’s eyes were on you the whole time. 

You only danced with Jim for a song and a half before Joel appeared over his shoulder. 

“Mind if I cut in?” He asked, giving Jim a look that made it seem like he didn’t have a lot of other options. Jim stepped back just as the music started to shift to something a bit slower. Joel took one of your hands in his and slipped the other around to your back, his fingers splayed wide against you, pulling you against him. 

“DIdn’t take you for the dancing type,” you smiled a little as you started to sway. 

“M’not,” he said. “Not usually, anyway.” 

“Really?” You teased. “So I’m a special case, hm?” 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said. “Can’t let my best friend’s little girl go runnin’ around with some old man.” 

“But what if I like old men?” You asked. 

“Should pick a better one than Jim then,” he replied. 

“Never said I liked Jim,” you said. “Not my type.” 

“What is your type?” He asked, his eyes drifting over your face to your neck to your breasts. 

You swallowed, hard. 

“Contractors.”

He ground his teeth for a moment before stepping back from you and leaving the bar. 

“Shit,” you muttered, trailing behind him to the parking lot. 

“Joel!” You called out to him. “Wait!” 

He stopped and turned to face you. 

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’ in there,” he said. “So just give me some space, OK?” 

“I know perfectly well what I was saying,” you said. 

“No,” he shook his head. “You don’t. You shouldn’t go around sayin’ shit like that…” 

“Oh, so you wanted me to lie then?” You asked.

“Princess,” there was a warning in his voice. “You don’t want to go here.” 

“Yes, I do,” you said. “It’s not like I’m some little kid, Joel, I’m 26 years old…” 

“That’s too damn young,” he snapped. 

“It’s not like I don’t know what I want,” you replied. 

“You’re my best friend’s daughter,” he said. 

“So?” 

“Get in the truck,” he growled. You frowned. “Want to talk about this like adults? Get in the damn truck.” 

You hesitated for a moment before you obeyed. 

“You don’t know what you’re sayin’,” he said again after he’d been driving for a few minutes. 

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” You asked, offended now. “That I just say shit I don’t mean with no understanding of the consequences?” 

“No, I think you’re young,” he snapped. “Too young to be even joking about getting involved with someone closer to your dad’s age than yours.” 

“Wasn’t joking,” you said defiantly. He glanced over at you before looking back to the road. 

“Princess,” he said, the warning tone back in his voice. 

“Joel.” 

He glared at you. 

“We’re not doin’ anything,” he said. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. 

You stared out the window, the ache between your thighs warring with the hurt in your chest. 

He dropped you at your door and you practically jumped out of the truck, not saying a word. He sighed and followed you, catching you as you were trying to unlock the door without crying.  It was hard not feeling stung by it. Yes, he was your dad’s best friend. Yes, he probably had better options. Yes, there were plenty of reasons why you shouldn’t fuck or anything more. But this rejection hurt somehow more than your ex dumping you for fucking Laurel in accounting. 

“Princess,” he said quietly. 

“Look it’s fine if you’re not interested,” you said, sniffing a little. “But don’t act like you’re doing it for my benefit. It’s shitty.” 

“Not…” he touched your shoulder, making you turn around. “You really think I’m not fuckin’ interested?” 

You shrugged. 

“How the fuck would I not be interested?” He asked. “Jesus Christ, spent half the goddamn afternoon thinkin’ about baseball stats so I wouldn’t get a hard on in your fuckin’ pool. All I am is interested.” 

“Interested in what?” 

“Interested in fucking you until you can’t see straight,” he said. “Interested in makin’ you cum so much the only thing you remember is my goddamn name. Interested in eating your pussy til I drown in ya. Interested in your dad punching me in the fuckin’ face over you because I’m too old for you but I don’t give a shit, bein’ with you is worth it. I’m interested.” 

He stepped closer to you, your back against the door. 

“You should come inside then,” you breathed. 

He kissed you then, pressing his body against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You could feel him through his jeans, thicker and longer than what you saw in the pool before. You fumbled with the door until it opened, both of you spilling into your parents’ entryway. 

You didn’t make it past the living room. 

Joel slid the straps of your dress down your arms and you pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. You backed up until you were against the arm of the couch, his hands ranging over your skin. He pushed the dress lower until it was over your hips and it fell to the floor. You were just in your panties and your shoes when he nudged you down onto the arm of the couch. 

He kissed down your body, over the swell of your breasts and down your stomach until he reached the top of your panties. He guided your hips off the arm of the couch for a moment and slid your underwear down and cast them aside before kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs. 

“Fucking hell you’ve got a pretty pussy,” he reached out and ran his thumb over your slit, pressing down a little when he reached your clit, making your back arch as you moaned. “Can’t wait to taste you, Princess.” 

He ran his tongue over you, delicately pressing the tip into your folds. One of his hands slid up your body to your chest, gently pushing you back until you were lying on the couch as his mouth worked your slit. 

“Fuckin’ perfect view,” he said before thrusting his tongue into you. You groaned, rocking your hips against his face, his nose pressing into your clit as you did. You could see his eyes devouring the rest of you the way his mouth was devouring your pussy, like there was no part of him that could get enough of you. 

His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading you open wider so his tongue could get deeper, your core tightening around him. Just as you were getting close, he slid his tongue from you, making you whimper as he kissed up your slit to your clit. He took the delicate nub into his mouth, licking and sucking as he thrust two fingers into your dripping pussy, making you gasp and your hips stutter. 

“Good girl,” he pulled his mouth away from you just enough to praise you. His fingers pressed deep, hooking into you and finding the spot inside you that made you gasp. “Want you to cum for me baby, don’t be shy now.” 

He went back to sucking, his tongue unrelenting, his eyes drinking you in. Your hand flew to the cushions of the couch and you gasped as you came, moaning his name. 

His mouth stayed on you until your body stopped pulsing, his fingers gently working you through your orgasm. He almost reluctantly pulled himself from you and licked his lips as he stood, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, stripping off the last of his clothes as you came down from your orgasm. He reached out and took your hand, pulling you back upright on the arm of the couch. 

Joel kissed you again and you could taste yourself on his tongue. He guided your legs around his waist and slid his hands below your thighs, picking you up and making you gasp. 

He didn’t take you far, only to the couch. He sat down, making you kneel on his lap as he reached between your legs and started stroking himself, close enough to you that his knuckles brushed your overwrought slit as he did. You looked down between you, the first chance you really had to see his cock. 

Your eyes went a little wide at the sight of it. He was so thick and long with a slight curve, you were almost afraid he wouldn’t fit. 

“Take it at your own pace, Baby,” he said, all but reading your mind. “M’not in a rush.” 

He adjusted his cock a bit, making it so the edge of him rubbed your clit as he worked himself. The contact made you needy, a sharp ache growing in you, a feeling deep inside that you knew you couldn’t reach but he could. 

You rose up on your knees, your hands on his shoulders, and he rubbed his thick head against your slit, your wetness spilling over him as he worked it lower down his shaft, coating himself in you. 

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned, lining his head up with your entrance. 

“All for you,” you breathed, lowering yourself onto him. 

You moaned at the intrusion as you pressed him into you, a spark of pain with the pleasure as he stretched you. 

“Fuck Baby,” he groaned, his hands going to your hips, guiding you down over him as you sank lower onto him. “Fuck, so tight, so goddamn…” 

You couldn’t help but smile a little, watching him start to lose himself in your body, his head falling back, eyes closing, fingertips sinking into your flesh. Your body opened for him, his cock parting your inner walls and stretching you. You groaned when you finally took all of him, his head pressed flush against your back wall as his hips ground against your own. 

“Good girl,” he gasped it out, his hands traveling up from your hips to your waist. “Knew you could take it all…” 

You started working over him, rising and falling on his cock, working your hips down against your own. His hands slipped up your back as he looked up at you, kissing your neck, your chest, trailing his tongue along the swell of your breasts. 

Joel pressed you close to him before he thrust deep into you and shifted, laying you down below him on the couch and sinking somehow deeper into you, making you moan. 

He started fucking into you harder and faster then, angling your hips so your clit was pressed against him with every stroke. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you groaned, pressing yourself against him, wanting to feel him everywhere you could. “Harder… need more…” 

He groaned. 

“Fucking perfect,” he buried his face in your neck as he started working you harder, faster. “You’re goddamn perfect…” 

It wasn’t long before you were cumming around him, your pussy gripping him so tight it almost hurt to hold him that way. He fucked you through your orgasm, his breathing faster, his kiss sloppy. 

The second your walls stopped fluttering around him, he pulled out of you. He sat back and fisted his cock. 

“Where?” He said quickly. 

“My clit,” you panted. 

“Fucking hell,” he moaned, jerking his cock just twice before pressing the tip against your swollen nub and spilling his warmth over you, making your ultra sensitive pussy shudder again. He collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as you both caught your breath. 

“Please say you’ll visit more,” he said, not moving from on top of you. 

“Think I’ll be visiting a lot more.” 

A/N: So this was my first request and my first one shot! I am NOT good at keeping things brief lol so I appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you for reading! Love ya!