#nude delivery

[zealoustravelerchopshop]

Ordered foods but forgot

#vintage #18+ account #18+ blog #1960s #vintage photos #retro #vintage fashion #art #50s #seduction #women seduce #seductor #delivery #pizza delivery #black and white #photographic nude #photography #film photography #photoshoot #photoshop #photographer #places #picture #house #home decor #interiors #decoration

[saltytimemachinefestival]

Vintage Chevrolet Delivery Truck

Outdoors Beauty | Archive

#vintage car #classic cars #vintage cars #classic car #retro #classic #vintage #chevrolet #chevy #delivery #classic pinup #pinup #blonde #suburban #beauty #sexy breasts #sexy content #adult model #sexy breast #beautiful girls #pretty girls #beautiful women #hot as hell #so hot 🔥🔥🔥 #great bodi #hot nude #beautiful #spicy content #amazing body #outdoors

[dante-mightdie]

Reader auction offs her virginity because she has to pay off her student loans. Lonely Price see her on the web and decides that he doesn’t just want her virginity but all of her so he asks her to be his sugar baby. He doesn’t need her for sex but needs her for the company

yummy yummy

c/w: sugardaddy!price, talks of virginity, mutual masturbation, nude photos, nsfw content

he thinks you’re just the sweetest and he just can’t let one of these creepy old men take your virginity <3 save it for someone special. doesn’t necessarily have to be him, he’d be happy if you just sat in his lap and played with his hair

just wants a pretty thing to get him a scotch and light his cigar for him. sat comfortably in his lap at his monthly poker game with some of his old comrades. a cocky smirk on his face when they all ogle at you for the whole night <3

he’s so mean about taking your virginity, even when you beg and basically throw yourself at him he still says no. says you’re too lovely to be ruined by a bitter, old man like him :(

instead he gets you to lay in the middle of his plush bed, watching you plunge your fingers in and out of your cunt whilst he sits in the corner of the room with a cigar in one hand and his cock in the other

instructs you on how to play with yourself with the deep, baritone voice of his. tells you what a good girl you are, how sweet and kind you are to spend your time with a bad man like him :(

gives you his bank card with no shame. the type of sugar daddy who has a scheduled delivery of bouquets every week with a lovely note. always enjoys the way you thank him, sending over a picture and a note to open it when he’s alone

the camera aimed between your legs, your fingers holding one of the flowers and a clear view of your damp panties in the background :( enough to make him excuse himself to the bathroom to rub one out

#mw2 #cod mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #sugardaddy!price

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 5

Word Count ~5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content, mild body horror and violence

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

The power is restored later that evening.

You are still sitting on the living room sofa before it happens, still tucked against the doppelgänger. Listening to the death of the storm outside. Watching the gray light oozing through the windows grow dimmer.

“How far did you walk to get here?”

“Not far. The delivery truck broke down about a mile from your house.”

“I’ll give you a ride back into town tomorrow, then. You’ll need to get it repaired as soon as possible.” It was strange, planning things with the imposter like this. As if you were truly allies and not sworn enemies. “What are you going to do once you move back?”

“I haven’t decided my next course of action yet.” His thumb is caressing the line he’d carved on your arm. Gentle, absent strokes.

A blossom of light suddenly illuminates the room. Electricity. You sigh with relief, straightening. You notice your panties still lying on the floor where he’s discarded them. The things that had seemed forgiveable in the darkness now feel indecent under the lighting. Like you’re being judged for your transgressions.

You look at what had once been Francis Mosses and your heart turns over again. And this is why you’ve done it; all of it. Because the sight of him instantly weakens you. You can’t help yourself.

His clothing, still in a state of half-on, half-off, is rumpled, still dirt stained from his trek to your house.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” you say. “While I make dinner.”

He rises, hastily fastening the button of his fly so the work pants don’t drop to the floor. The belt buckle he leaves as it is, the end with the metal piece jingling as he walks, following you up the stairs. The farmhouse squeaks in protest with each step. A heavy tred, though the milkman had never seemed anything but lean. Perhaps what was dwelling inside lent the extra weight.

You turn the lights on as you go, making sure every corner is devoid of shadows. There’s a tiny linen closet in the hall you retrieve a bath towel from. You’re considering what clothing you might have that he could wear while you wash his. Something a former boyfriend had left behind, maybe. You lean and turn the faucets of the claw foot tub on, testing the water temperature and adjusting accordingly.

“I have to find something for you to wear. Just leave everything on the sink and I’ll wash it for you.” You’re about to exit the room when he halts you, fingers lightly closing over your forearm. The previously injured one.

His lips touch yours. Just once. Just for the feel of it, to place a reminder there. You were his.

The deceiver releases you, working on the buttons of his work shirt’s cuffs. You duck out of the bathroom, making your way to your dresser. Nearly every piece of furniture in the home is hand made, built to last. Solid pine, the scent of it still strong after all these years as you begin rummaging inside. There, at the bottom. Shoved way back. Undershirt, briefs.

You snatch at them and return to the other room. Finding the imposter nude, standing beside the tub. You blush, not looking directly at him as you shut off the faucets. You test the temperature a final time and decide it’s safe.

“Soap, shampoo. Here’s a wash cloth.” You point out the items. Wondering if these creatures ever bathed. If cleansing their true form was ever a concern.

One foot sinks into the water. The other follows. He sits down slowly. A little sigh escaping at the feeling of soaking in the warmth.

“I’m going to go start supper.” You close the door softly behind you, descending the stairs. Considering your options for a meal. You’d never gotten a chance to check the garden earlier, so fresh vegetables were out. Canned ones, then. Green beans and instant mashed potatoes from the box. Leftover meatloaf from the previous evening. A quick, easy meal to prepare. Your eyes linger on the bottle of milk in the refrigerator. Not from Francis’ company, but a reminder nonetheless. You shut the fridge again after grabbing the necessary ingredients, then preheat the oven.

It doesn’t take long to get things ready. How strange to see two place settings on the oak kitchen table. You hadn’t had company over in a long time.

Still no appearance from your current guest. You walk to the foot of the stairs. “Francis! Dinner is ready.” You were still unsure how else to address him. It just seemed easier to call him that. If it bothered him, he didn’t reveal it.

The pretender returns just as you’re pouring two glasses of iced tea. You’ve never seen Francis with wet hair; it lies so dark and flat when it’s wet. The clothing you’ve lent doesn’t quite fit right, a little loose on the shirt and tighter on the material clinging to his hips.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer you. I wasn’t expecting…”

“It’s fine.” He holds out a hand, turning it over to stare curiously at new wrinkles along each digit.

“You pruned up. Spent too long in the water,” you explain. “How was the bath?”

“Enjoyable.”

“Good. Have a seat.” You drag the chair out slightly and he finishes the task, settling at the table about to be laden with food.

The dark eyes follow your movements around the kitchen. Potholders in hand as you remove the reheated dish from the oven. It seems too quiet in the house. You wish you had switched on the radio in the living room. Just for the comforting sound of background noise. Something to soothe your frayed nerves.

You sit across from your guest after you’ve filled both your plates. He still hasn’t touched anything. Hesitant. Waiting. And then you realize it. Francis would have said grace. You close your eyes and bow your head, reciting the words. “Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts that we're about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.”

A soft echo of the last word. You wonder if it would be considered blasphemy, what you’ve just done. The invader participating in it. You’ve never been overly religious yourself. You suppose you’ve committed far worse transgressions than this one over the course of the day.

The dark haired creature lifts a spoon and takes a tentative scoop of the white mixture, bringing it to his mouth. Considering the taste. “Good.”

You realize you’re starving and you dig in. Stabbing the loaf and cutting off a piece, blowing on it to make sure it’s cooled enough before taking a bite. Still moist. Your grandmother’s recipe. The figure on the opposite side of the table mimics your actions. “Careful. Don’t burn yourself. It’s still hot.” You hate burning your tongue. That awful soreness, the awkward numb feeling.

It doesn’t take long for the imposter to clear his plate. “Seconds?” He nods and you push back your chair, lifting his plate and returning to the counter. The glass he refills himself from the pitcher on the table. “Have you eaten before this?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t…” He pauses. “Different than this.” He seems reluctant to elaborate and you’re not sure you want him to, so you let the subject matter drop, setting another helping before him and retaking your seat.

You struggle for a safe topic of conversation. Everything you think of, each query you seek answers for, seem anything but. This domestic peace between you feels fragile. You’re not sure how long it will last.

After the meal concludes you bring your dishes to the counter and the false milkman copies your actions, piling them next to yours beside the sink. You let the water run hot and then plug the drain, filling the sink halfway. You squeeze a generous dollop of dish soap from the bottle tucked on the rim of the porcelain basin. A little too generous, maybe. There are a few little iridescent bubbles that drift through the air in front of you.

One arm tucks around your waist from behind. Lips beside your ear. You struggle to scrub the plate in your hands, your heart pounding. A throbbing further down. Still hungry for him.

He hums Francis’ song. You feel tears welling in your eyes again. The dish you set in the drying rack nearly falls, your wet fingers clumsy.

“Did he suffer?”

The humming stops. “What?”

“Francis. When you took him over. Was it quick, at least?”

“Yes.” He could be lying, of course. But why would the alien care about your own comfort?

You pull the drainer from the sink and the water level begins descending, the last of it suctioned inside with a loud squelching noise. He’s still holding you. His breath warm by your cheek.

You can see nothing through the window above the sink. You stare at that void, blinking away the tears.

***

You’d forgotten about the bloodstains on Francis’ work shirt.

You’ve just begun lathering the fabric with soap in the bathroom sink upstairs when you notice the incriminating flecks.

Hydrogen peroxide will remove them. Erase those traces of the milkman’s lifeforce that had spattered upon his surrender.

It makes you want to weep again.

Once your chores are completed you take your own bath.

You don’t linger. You’re thinking of the doppelgänger resting in the chair in the corner of your bedroom. Trying to figure out where he’ll spend the night. The living room couch, maybe.

The mirrored medicine cabinet is clouded when you emerge. You swipe at it ineffectually with your towel, still damp from your body. The one the creature had used lying in a pile on the floor by the tub. You toss it into the hamper before dragging a comb through your hair and brushing your teeth. Hastily sliding into a sleeveless nightgown. Tiny lilacs printed on the fabric. You have them growing in the side yard, the perfumed scent when they’re in bloom wafting over you when you walk by. You touch the purple satin bow at the scooped neckline. A delicate little detail.

Those dark eyes watching you as you begin to strip the bed. He moves to assist you in stretching a fresh fitted sheet over the mattress. You can hear the drip of the water from Francis’ clothes hung to dry over the tub in the next room.

He sits on the side of the bed while you rub moisturizing lotion into your elbows, over your hands and arms. Legs once you’re seated on the opposite side. He’s moved so that he’s propped upright against the carved headboard, lower limbs stretching out along the length of the bed. Inviting himself in. Maybe it was better this way. At least you could keep an eye on him. Not worrying and wondering what he was doing downstairs all evening.

You switch off the lamp on the nightstand and lie down. Hear him scoot lower until he’s resting next to you. There’s just a top sheet at the foot of the bed. It’s really too warm for more than that. Through the cracked bedroom window you can hear the crickets chirping near the foundation outside. You turn away from him, reclining on your side, facing the wall. Willing your eyes to shut, to get some rest.

Succeeding.

You awaken and it’s still dark in the room. There is a hand on your bare shoulder, stroking circles along your deltoid muscle, grazing the path where your neck meets your shoulder, dipping into the hollow above your collarbone.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and you hold your breath. Wondering again over how fast your body reacts to his touch, to his voice, to everything. “What are you doing to me?” As if you are the one caressing him in the middle of the night and not the other way around. “What is this feeling…this ache…”

You turn onto your back. He reaches blindly for your face. Following the angle of your jaw. His thumb seats in the dip in the edge below your bottom lip and he tugs gently, your mouth opening. His mouth finds yours. Tongue slithering between. You whimper. Your fingers seed in his hair. Still slightly damp. Refusing to dry in this humidity. He reaches for the hem of your nightgown, sliding the cotton material upward. Immediately at your panties, eagerly working inside. A heavy sigh of satisfaction from him. You gasp, your legs falling open. So wet already. Your body not caring if this isn’t really the man you love. It wants this. It craves this forbidden touch.

He’s so, so good at the touching. Retaining everything you’d showed him previously. Expertly manipulating your clit. Thrusting inside of you. You moan into his mouth. The side of his throat. You lap at that skin. Rough now. The first pricks of new growth of facial hair coarse against you.

“My sweet girl. Mine. You’re mine.” You do not protest. Your hips are lifting, grinding you against his fingers. It doesn’t take long to find your release. Your nails rake his back. The praise spills from his lips. The claims that you belong to him continue. His possession. His. To do with as he wishes. “Touch me, love. I need you.”

You find his cock leaking against the tight fitting underwear. You shove at the elastic top, releasing it partially from its confines. Stroking. He shifts positions, resting on one forearm. Fucking into the tight ring of your fingers. “Francis.” He’s not him, he never will be, but it’s so easy to pretend when it’s like this. In the dark and the heat of the summer weather, from the exchange between your bodies.

“I want to be inside of you. I want…I want…”

His breath shudders and his hips stutter as his orgasm rocks through him. Spilling hot seed over your fingers. The mattress dipping and creaking as he drops his full weight down onto it. You slip out of bed, padding barefoot into the hallway to retrieve a wash cloth. Washing your hands at the sink in the bathroom before bringing the dampened material back to the imposter in your bed, dragging it over his skin until you’re satisfied he’s clean.

You leave the soiled cloth on the nightstand, lying back down with your back to him again. He pulls you against him. The curves of your bodies fit together like spoons resting stacked in a silverware drawer. Your hands rest on the forearms curled around your torso. Feeling the threads of his body hair. He breathes your name into your neck and you shiver. There are still so many hours before dawn.

***

The week of your suspension passes quickly.

Francis’ doppel has already moved back into the apartments. Calls made. To the milkman’s employer. To the DDD director. He says he seemed placated, but you know better. They’ve been alerted. They’re going to be watching him closely. Both of you.

You like having him visit your home far more than you should.

It’s beginning to feel comfortable. A routine developing. He helps you sand and repaint the front porch once the weather is no longer humid. Tending to the garden. Mending the fence bordering the side yard. Replacing the broken bracket for one of the pantry shelves. Tightening the gasket under the kitchen sink when you hear water dripping during dinner one evening. There are endless repairs when one owns a home. Especially one of this age. It’s strange to see the imposter working so diligently to maintain it.

Stranger still how much you enjoy him in your bed.

There are many kisses and touches. Moments of taking each apart with hands and mouths. You learn each other’s bodies. You know he wants even more of you. You want it, too. But you’re reluctant. For so many reasons. Fearing an accidental pregnancy not the least of them.

The guilt of betraying the real Francis that still haunts you.

***

Your replacement as doorman had not been very tidy.

The desk is cluttered with papers, confiscated entry requests and identification cards. Pens no longer in their cup beside the phone. The day’s listing taped sloppily to the wall beside the window so it hangs at an angle.

You spend some time rearranging things. Restoring order. Internally, you’re trying to get yourself back into the right frame of mind. You have a duty to protect the residents. The replicants are not welcome. Never to be trusted. Francis’ copy is the only exception.

You shouldn’t be making it.

He’s there at your window later that day. Looking tired. Thrusting his ID and paperwork through the narrow slot at the base of the glass. Merely for show, of course. There is a security camera inside the office now. That video feed being constantly monitored by a DDD member. You’ve already warned him about it.

There’s an extra piece of paper beneath the entry request form. A small scrap with a torn edge. You tuck it into your palm quickly before reviewing his documents, then handing them back with a smile before pressing the door to allow him to enter.

You make a show of shifting some papers, your back to the camera as you quickly unfold the secret message. An invitation to come to his apartment once your shift is over. It wasn’t wise to draw attention to him. But you find yourself unable to resist the offer. You see the pilot that lives near Francis leaning in the open doorway of his residence as you exit the elevator after your workday ends, smoking a cigarette.

“Mr. Rudboys,” you greet him, nodding. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork for Mr. Mosses.”

He grunts, a smirk twitching his thin lips. “Sure you are, doll.”

Your spine stiffens in embarrassment, your neck warm beneath your shirt collar as you knock on the apartment door.

Your lover opens it and you hastily bid farewell to his neighbor before you enter, closing the door behind you with a little sigh of relief. “I think he might suspect—” You don’t get a chance to finish as his mouth covers yours. “Francis,” you gasp.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, planting kisses along your throat, unbuttoning the top of your blouse and seating his lips in the hollow there. “This tedious work routine is unbearable.”

“I did warn you. You have to earn a living. Pay bills. I still don’t understand why you wanted this.”

“It’s not the mundane work ethic you devote yourselves to that we’re interested in, I assure you.” He nibbles your ear.

“So why do it, then?”

He sighs, his affectionate gestures ceasing. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? I had envisioned a rather different evening for us. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

“I found something I know you’ll like. Come here.” He leads you into the living room. There’s a tan object resting on the coffee table. The length is too short to be a suitcase, the height making you realize what it is a heartbeat before he lifts the lid. A portable record player. Beside it, a shallow stack of vinyl albums. “Saw it in a shop window on my route downtown. I’ve no idea if you like those artists, but…”

“Francis.” You cover your mouth with your hand. You can hardly believe it. Such a thoughtful gesture. From the intruder or some sentiment of the man he’d taken over. You don’t know which is which. You never have.

“Try it out,” he invites.

You already know which record you’re going to play. At the very top of the pile you see Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s collaboration. You slide it from the sleeve and place it on the turntable. Setting the needle down gently on the ebony disc, you grin when it starts to play.

“Turn the volume up. It’s only fair, considering.” He nods towards the direction of the apartment where Mia Stone and her fiancé reside, a mischievous smirk on his features.

You comply, still uncomfortable with making it too loud. “Dance with me?” You’re not certain if he knows how. But the memory is there for him, plucked from the depths at this hour of need. His hands rest on your waist. You twine your arms behind his neck.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you

Birds singin' in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me

He turns, lifting you easily. You smile again, allowing him to pull one of your hands free to clasp beside you as you rest the other one on his shoulder, swaying gently as your bodies move in a tight circle.

Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

The doppel leans suddenly and you gasp, but his hand is strong against your lower spine, the other holding your hand tightly. The throaty male singer’s voice begins the next verse as you’re lifted upright again.

Stars fading but I linger on dear

Still craving your kiss

Now I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear

Just saying this

“I thought you didn’t like music,” you murmur against his ear, lifting slightly on your toes.

“It’s growing on me.” You draw back to find him smiling. Francis’ smile. Your heart lurching in your chest again as the artists’ voices join together.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you

Leave the worries behind you

But in your dreams, whatever may be

You've gotta make me a promise, promise to me

You'll dream, dream a little dream of me

The song ends. His hands cup your face. “Sweetheart.” His mouth hungry on yours. “Come to bed with me, love.”

You nod, following him to the bedroom. Undressing each other. Practiced at this now, clothing quickly shed. Not stopping to move the comforter, pressing your naked body down on top of it.

“I want to be inside of you.” He says this often, and it frightens you as much as it thrills you.

“Francis…”

“Let me in, love, please. My special, sweet girl…” His hand wedges between your thighs. Never once has he forced you. Never once have you denied him. You open your legs and he straightens, kneeling between that v shaped space. Running his erection along your pink flesh, parting your nether lips, spreading the slick from your core through them. Massaging your hooded button. Pausing outside your entrance. Waiting for your permission.

“Please,” he says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him say the word.

“Okay.”

Pressure as the fattened dome violates your canal. You gasp and his hands instantly reach to soothe you, caressing your thigh as he thrusts inside gradually. He leans his weight forward in small increments, bringing your legs up as he goes. Pressing deeper inside of you. Still more than you’re used to. There’s a burn accompanying the stretch as his prick fills your pussy. A kind of raw ache when he is fully sheathed, bumping against the edge of your cervix. Lifting his hips, the shaft sliding back. Thrust in again. A slow rhythm that you know belies what he really wants. His arms tremor with the tension on either side of you. Your knees hug his ribs. He kisses you and you rock against him. The movements become easier. A wet sound every time he bottoms out, his cock fully buried, the base of his groin tapping your own.

“So perfect, love. So tight around me.” He’s already perspiring. He hadn’t opened the window. The air in the room is stale and warm. You taste the salt of his leaking sweat when he kisses you.

“Francis. You feel so good…” The discomfort has subsided. Now, every motion brings nothing but pleasure. Your nails dig into his shoulders. The warning your mind attempts to deliver is ignored. You want this. You want him. You’ll worry about the consequences later.

He moans loudly. “They’ll hear you next door,” you caution.

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at your throat. “I want to mark you again. Somewhere everyone will see.” Sucking kisses near your collarbone. Moving back to your neck.

“Oh, Francis, don’t.” You know how difficult it is to conceal a hickey. You can’t allow it. Imagining greeting the residents with a bloom of raspberry on your throat after the fragile vessels beneath had burst. It was too much.

“A different kind of mark, then. Like the one I made before. Somewhere they won’t see.” There is still an ache to the healing wound he’d previously left. The sutures have been removed, the edges knitting together nicely. “I like being able to feel you when you’re not with me.” He thrusts back inside you. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” His pelvis jerks faster, his passion building once more. A hand snakes between your bodies, thumb stroking your clit.

“Oh…” Your hips roll up, making that finger collide more firmly. The familiar sensation of release building inside of you. The coil tightening. “Francis…”

“Cum for me, love. Want to feel you around me.”

Your lower spine is on fire. You can’t hold back any longer. You climax, the walls of your canal spasming around him as the pleasure wracks through your body. Trying to milk your partner’s release. It’s working. You recognize the tell tale shudder. The way his breathing becomes ragged. “Please let me,” he says again, his voice full of need.

“Yes.”

A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh escapes him. His mouth at the place where your neck and shoulder meet. An instant of heat and needle sharp pain. Something piercing you. Not Francis’ teeth, but belonging to the thing inside of him. The hurt vanishes, replaced by another sensation. You’re warm again. Your body ready for another release. The wave of a second orgasm dragging the doppel through his own. You feel the wet heat of his ejaculate filling you deep inside.

The damp skin you’re clutching ripples. That hazy shimmer visible when he draws back slightly to regard your features, still buried in your womb. You haven’t seen this struggle for many days now. Nearly forgetting its existence. Allowing yourself to be deluded.

Now reminded as the imposter fights for control. The hand that had been draped loosely against your throat tightens slightly, a sharp prick of claws digging into that soft skin, nearly enough to invade that barrier. Your eyes widen in alarm. “Francis,” you manage to choke out.

He abruptly releases you. Looking at his hand as if it’s foreign to him. The movement beneath his flesh stops, the halo fading. He is whole again.

“I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed, I…” His voice trails off. You struggle to move and he withdraws. You feel his cum dripping out of you, staining the blanket beneath you. “Sweetheart.” Worry in his eyes. Touching your cheek. Your force yourself not to flinch. Not to think about the unnatural seed he’s just filled you with. What that union could possibly result in.

The bite he’s left tingles. You reach for it absently, the flesh warm beneath your fingers. It’s slightly raised and firm. Like getting an insect bite, your body reacting to the venom injected.

“It will go away. I didn’t…it’s not deep.” His fingers nudging yours, feeling the injury. “Sweetheart. You’re so quiet. Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know.” There are so many of each, all competing to be heard and felt. “I think…I think I’d better go home now.”

“Stay,” he pleads. This sudden begging of his, you’re not sure what to make of it. “Even if not for the night, just stay with me.”

You shake your head. “I should go. It’s well past curfew.”

“I don’t care about your stupid government’s rules,” he snaps impatiently.

“I do. I have to live by them.” You move to sit on the side of the mattress, his hand reaching for you, settling on your scarred forearm.

“I thought about you all day. All I wanted was this. To be with you.”

“Francis. I can’t stay. Truly. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bend to retrieve the nearest article of clothing you can reach.

“You’re upset with me.”

“I’m scared, Francis.”

“Of me?”

“Yes. No. Not just you. Everything. You guide his hand to your abdomen. “What will you do if there’s a baby?”

“Is that what you’re so concerned about?“ He sighs heavily, looking relieved. “I’ll protect it. Just like I’ll protect you.”

“They would never let us keep it. Not your species. Not the organization. The DDD would dispose of it. Your race…you wanted it for an experiment. You told me that.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

“You know what.”

You swallow thickly. “This is so dangerous. And you act like it’s not. They’ll kill us, Francis.”

He shakes his head firmly. “No. I won’t let that happen. Did you notice there were no doppels today?”

“I did. It’s unusual, but it does happen on occasion.”

“That’s because of me. Because they recognize this.” He caresses your marked arm. “No one would ever dare harm you.” His fingers now on the new puncture he’d created.

“Even if that’s true, it won’t stop the DDD.”

The imposter cups your cheek. “You’ve done something to me. Not something visually apparent. Something inside. I have to be with you.” He kisses you, the intially chaste gesture deepening and your hand relaxes, dropping the garment you’d retrieved back to the carpet. “Stay with me. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You can’t refuse.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #thats not my neighbor #milkman x reader #milkman x you #francis mosses #milkman

[justporo]

Hear me out! Tav brought a statue of Astarion to the camp but Astarion does not recognize himself in it and does not understand why their leader spent 5000 gold on a random stone man. Meanwhile the party is betting on how long it will take Astarion to guess whose statue it is.

5000 Gold

"He's not... he's not gonna figure it out anytime soon, is he?"

"Sshhh!"

Shadowheart shushed Karlach with an angry frown and a single finger thrown to her lips.

The two of them - along with your other companions observed the scene unfolding on the other side of the camp. Right where a delivery had just been made - and quite an uncommon one.

A giant stone statue, depicting... Astarion - and almost fully nude at that.

You couldn't resist when the offer had been made to you at the carnival at the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. 5000 gold had felt like nothing for the punchline you had been about to make with having a statue be made of the one companion that couldn't remember what he himself looked like.

And Astarion, upon discovering Tav's most recent purchase, had started to throw a temper tantrum immediately, almost fainting when he had heard the paid sum out of your mouth.

The vampire had worked himself into an outright frenzy, screaming, hissing, gesticulating towards the statue, then back to you, then to the skies. Meanwhile all you could do anymore was biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting into the biggest laughing fit of your life.

The rest of the group kept observing from a safe distance.

"Istik", Lae'zel mumbled under her breath. But even the sober githyanki could barely hide a smile.

Shadowheart shushed her as well. Wyll had just been silently shaking his head for the last couple of minutes. Shadowheart had started taking bets on how long it would take the oblivious vampire to realise the cruel trick that was being played on him. Karlach, being way too optimistic, had already lost some coin to the cleric with their estimate of a few minutes.

Only Gale who had been busy this far with some of his thousand books had missed the whole spectacle so far. Just now had the wizard realised that something was going down. He eyed the fighting trio of you Astarion and stone Astarion and then the group of bystanders, trying to decipher the situation. When he couldn't make any logical sense of any of it he went over to the small onlooking group. "I appear to have missed something? What is-"

Shadowheart hissed at him to shut up, causing Gale to flinch back with a hurt facial expression. Wyll though wasn't impressed by the cleric and enlightened his friend: "It looks like our clever leader Tav has taken up the offer of getting a stone statue of Astarion for a bargain of 5000 gold without telling anyone. And now we're betting how long it's going to take him to realise it's him."

Shadowheart stared the Blade of Frontiers down. Wyll merely shrugged his shoulders. He'd faced more fearsome creatures than the cleric aplenty.

Gale just blinked several times at him, letting the words settle. Then a grin spread on the wizard's face. "I bet 100 gold it's gonna take him at least until the end of the day."

Shadowheart's furious expression lightened noticeably and she stretched out her hand to Gale. They shook on the bet. Then everyone turned back to the two Astarion's and you to continue watching the scene.

"Why in the nine hells would you get a statue of some random guy - he isn't that... Well, he is quite handsome!" Astarion yelled at you while you had to hide your face in your hands desperately trying to pull yourself together.

The vampire didn't let up: "Well, if only it had been me, then I would have understood, darling, who wouldn't want that as a piece of decor, but-"

That was it, you broke. Hysterical laughter started shaking you, up to the point where you doubled over and could barely breathe between laughing and crying from laughing.

The vampire meanwhile went through the whole spectrum of emotions known under the sun in a matter of seconds. Angered, confused, flustered. And then finally something in the elf’s brain clicked together.

He stared at the statue then at you, back to the statue and suddenly his hands wandered over his own face as if to grasp it's lines and shapes.

"You...," he started and stopped. Through your tears you were sure you could see the vampire's pointy ears turn bright pink. "That IS me!"

You were barely able to nod as another fit of laughter shook you. Astarion’s mouth opened several times but no sound came out. A rare occasion to the see the sassy rogue so void of words.

Meanwhile, a bunch of moans could be heard from the other side of camp where Shadowheart collected her won gold from the others.)

"Why would you-", Astarion began and his expression was barely readable while your laughter slowly died down and you were able to kneel back on your feet.

"Didn't you say it yourself? He's quite handsome, isn't he? Now you get to see for yourself again."

Astarion pointed an angry finger at you about to throw another fit but then his eyes fell on the statue again. Now with knowing what it was and what it meant it shut him up immediately.

He took a few steps closer to get a better look. His anger at you momentarily forgotten as he gazed upon his own image for the first time in over 200 years.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x reader #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #karlach #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #drabble

[ironskyfinder]

Keep her nude in the house, regardless of circumstance. Make her expose herself to every driver and courier every time she signs for packages and deliveries. Bend her over the table and inspect her holes when the handyman drops by to fix that pipe, leave her standing there dripping while you write the check and schedule another visit. Host a party for her and her friends so they can see her in her natural state, horny and dumb and crawling and begging.

#patriarchy kink #daddy's good girl #fr33use #cvmdump #cnc free use #r4p3 kink #r4ape kink #r4p3b4it #girlbreaking #sluttraining

[freckliedan]

omgomg What hornyposting have they done - same anon :3c

check out my fuck energy tag for receipts on varying levels of overtly horny moments to things that ping for me but possibly not universally. but also, an in depth but not exhaustive list:

they have a bondage bar on their bed which dan has flippantly replied to a tweet about

sister daniel video

the april fools nude

dan probably agrees that phil is naturally ginger despite his hair color being an auburny brown at best due to pube color. sorry that i said it out loud rather than keeping it implied.

interactive introverts shock buzzers shown im witl were bought from an online sex store, dan told us on twitter

halloween pumpkin carving video has "so horny they're stupid" energy, dan's in a mesh shirt

this ii era liveshow in australia; the next video on the gaming channel was of the dumber ways to die mobile app.

ii era "getting that d vitamin" shirtless dan selfie ft clothes in the bushes behind him. photo taken on a brief break from touring when dnp + martyn and cornelia were spending a few days on vacation. "lapping up the d vitamin" comments about phil as well in a liveshow afterwards

phil's ii era side to side by ariana grande insta story

phil's mysterious white stain on his costume shirt insta story from the lead up to ii

"please be gentle with the handcuffs, i have sensitive skin" from witl/ii—sensitive skin is usually about like.. being sensitive to scented soaps and stuff. this is not an intuitive connection to make. it leads me to believe that's knowledge they have from experience

when the ii dvd was released, the bbc rated it whatever it rated it (can't remember) because of a couple engaging in erotic roleplay (amongst other reasons) which dan acknowledged on twitter and did not disagree with at all

dan's horny attitude about dentist visits

handcuffs and videogames sims moment

dan's kinky tumblr reblogs from the era when it was normal to rb softcore porn on here, including a fair amount of horny qbout blood posts

in that light: dan wrote and published the urge

phil bringing up mpreg as often as he does pings as horny for me; the hand falls into this category in a deeply bizzare manner imo

phil recognizing a delivery guy from gay emo porn

dan hogtied in christmas garland on their breakfast bar in manchester

dan's 2009 nakedbooths—nudes posted largely to flirt with phil. particularly the nakedbooth dan posted of himself in phil's bedroom where phil's holding lion in frame to censor dan's dick

phil's "milk" dailybooth

dan's "i WANT you to tie me up" dailybooth comment on phil holding up a belt

dan on formspring answering whether he swallows or spits

dan replying to someone in the comments of a phil vid pointing out hickies he had after dan visited him in 2009

uma thurman tweet

formspring answers about cherry & piña colada lube + cherry reference in the vday vid + sleuths online spotting specific lube in one of their suitcases at one point

phil used to post constant thirst traps before dan came into the picture have you SEEN ry @dnphobe's emo boy edit?? have you seen phil's check yes juliet and toxic vids????

thank you for coming to my ted talk, i know i'm missing loads.

#jam replies #anon #fe #phan #history

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 3)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

You finally blow up on Melissa.

Warnings: Toxic Melissa, smut, and very veiled internalized homophobia

Author's Note: Okay so walking into this I had an entirely different idea, and then the fic just wrote itself. Thank you soooo much to @alexusonfire for betaing this <3

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2

While it had been weeks since you last spoke to or texted Melissa, she had been trying to contact you for weeks. You had received ‘come over’ texts, nudes, and lewd messages from the redhead - all of which drove you crazy. Sometimes you would find yourself staring at the past pictures she had sent, craving her. 

This craving felt immoral, especially now that you had been casually seeing someone you met online. 

Ericka had just about everything you were searching for in a partner - especially the way she responded to your texts and happily went on dates with you without you having to beg. She was kind and you were sure you both shared some interests (although you didn’t know what they were). You knew the bar was incredibly low for this stranger you met through a dating app, but you kept telling yourself anything was better than your dating life prior. 

--

Ericka stared across the table at you with her head resting in her hands, listening tentatively to your turn in the game you were playing. She always looked at you with a kindness that made you nervous. Her finger danced across the tabletop as she spoke softly, “Can we order dinner?”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you opened the folder containing all of the apps for different restaurants and food delivery. You handed over your phone, your hand grazing hers made your cheeks flush. “Yeah. Take a look at what’s available and we can order something. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

When you emerged from the bathroom, you would have never expected for Ericka to have her coat on with her purse hanging off her shoulder. She held out your phone to you with a dejected look in her eyes that made your heart sink, “Is this the same Melissa you used to see?”

“What?” You ask, chewing the inside of your lip and taking the phone from her hands. Your eyes examined the open text chain between Melissa and you with a new picture you hadn’t seen that had been sent mere minutes ago - a picture featuring the bottom half of Mel’s face and her open blouse with her breasts pulled from her bra. It was mesmerizing, but you tore your eyes away to make yourself seem like less of a terrible person. 

Ericka’s jaw was tight as she spoke, “She texted you.”

“Ericka-”

“No. It’s really okay. It’s better that I know you aren’t emotionally available now than later on when it hurts more.” She cut you off and gave you a pained look that cracked your heart in two. While you hadn’t grown extremely attached to Ericka, she was incredibly kind to you and you never wanted to hurt her in all of this. 

Her tone alone told you that none of this was open for discussion or explanation, but you tried anyway. “It isn’t like that.”

“Then what is it like?” Ericka gave you a few moments to reply, but when you couldn’t formulate an answer she gave a saddened nod. She left you in silence as she walked towards the door, only pausing when she had one hand on the door handle. “That’s what I thought… Have a good night. I hope you find what you are looking for.”

--

After everything happened with Ericka, you were feeling horrible about your inability to fully cut Melissa off. If you are unable to do that, how would you ever move on? Tears pooled in your eyes and you wiped them away with your sleeves. You didn’t feel you had the right to cry after what you did. And to make matters worse a knock came on your front door. 

You pulled open your front door with reddened eyes and you couldn’t believe that Melissa was standing on your front step. The redhead pushed past you with a huff, entering your home without giving you a sideways glance, “I thought she would never leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Your jaw tightened at the prospect that Melissa could have something to do with your date with Ericka going so poorly.

Mel stolled deeper into your home, dropping her purse onto a chair and perching herself on the arm of the same chair. She rolled her eyes as she described how she found herself outside of your home a half hour ago. “Well I drove over here to see why you weren’t respondin’ to any of my messages when I saw Ms. Sunshine pull up.”

“And that’s why you conveniently sent a picture while she was here?” It wasn’t hard to tell from your tone that you were becoming increasingly infuriated. 

“Well I thought it would bring you to your senses. I didn’t plan on her seein’ it.” Melissa flipped her hair over her shoulder nonchalantly. You couldn’t believe how unaffected she seemed by ruining this night for you. How could a person be so cold?

Her confidence made heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t remember a time when you were so infuriated by another human. You clenched and unclenched your fists, snarling at the redhead, “So I had a real shot at a real relationship and you couldn’t let me have that? I thought this was just casual, hm?”

Melissa looked down at the floor, speaking with a wavering confidence, “It is.”

“This? This is casual? Casual, Melissa? This has been going on for years! You keep me like a little puppet on a string, but are you ever going to give me a chance? NO! Because you keep telling yourself you aren’t even the least bit gay.” You shifted quickly into shouting, unable to contain yourself any longer. 

Melissa opened her mouth to respond, but you cut her off before the words could fall off her tongue. “DID YOU EVER THINK OF WHAT THAT DOES TO ME? WHAT YOU DO TO ME? You drive me fucking crazy! I had a woman here! A woman who wanted to fucking date me, but you knew how to fuck that up for me so you could be the only one, huh?”

Melissa moved off the chair and placed her hands on her hips, staring up at you in an act of defiance, “Don’t act like you are such a victim. I never forced you to be so goddamn desperate.”

You knew she was trying to intimate you, but you weren’t about to cave for this woman quite so soon, “Desperate? I’m desperate? Says you that sent me so many messages and pictures detailing how badly you needed to be fucked.”

Melissa paused, trying to find her next argument, but it had momentarily escaped her, “I-I-”

“Go upstairs.”

“What?” The redhead’s eyes opened wider, but her mouth still formed a scowl. 

“Go upstairs. I’m going to fuck you.”

—

You weren’t even sure how Melissa was feeling after you told her to get on her hands and knees. Usually you loved watching her face and breasts as you fucked her with the strap, but now you only wanted to get your anger out. 

With one hand you clutched her beautiful red locks, and used the leverage to pull her backward mercilessly onto the dildo. The other hand gripped her waist - undoubtedly leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on her skin.

Melissa’s jaw hung slack, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she continued to will them away to not show you any weakness. She barely made any noise, however. The redhead had two orgasms which caused her senses to go fuzzy - a sensation she was growing to love. “M-more.”

“More? You think you’re in a position where you can ask for more?” Your voice was a low growl that sent shivers down Melissa’s spine. With a tug of her hair, you pull her backwards so she sat up higher on her knees. The redhead sucked in a breath from the pain, and instinctively you wrapped your spare arm around her waist to pull her down into your lap. 

The feeling of Melissa’s body pressed to yours had you feeling crazy. Slowly you released her hair, and slid your hand to her face, brushing the backs of your fingers across her cheek. Melissa was breathing heavily and subconsciously grinding down onto the strap. Your gentility ended after your thumb glided over her jawline and you dropped your hand to her throat, grasping firm enough to make her whine.

Your voice was merely a whisper as you began slowly rocking tantalizingly slow up into Mel, “You are an evil woman. Consumed by your own selfish pleasures…” 

The pretty redhead let out a meek whine.

Your hand remained steady on her neck while the other trailed down her abdomen, fingers slipping between her folds with ease. While the strap barely moved in and out, you were teasing her sore clit as you listed off Melissa’s sins, “You don’t think I remember all of the things you have done? All of the boyfriends you cheated on with me… Coming to my apartment the night before you and Joe got married… You were broken up with Gary only for a couple hours before you had me in your bed…”

Melissa huffed in frustration and wriggled in your grasp, failing to find the words to argue. Only if you could have seen the way her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment - those were all memories she pushed deep down. 

“And you’re right. I am no victim. I let you do whatever you want because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” You put a period on your sentence by catching her ear lobe between your teeth. Even while you wanted to punish Melissa and take all of your anger out on her, you avoided the hoop of her earring as you would never want to cause any real harm.

Flattery was truly the way to Mel’s heart no matter what she would say. Her groan in response was guttural and conveyed a desperation that was incredibly satisfying. She then began rutting against your hand, crying your name over and over again. 

“I wish I could hate you.”

And with those cold words, Melissa came hard enough that she doubled over out of your grasp. She buried her face into the sheets to hide the tears that involuntarily fell from her eyes. 

—

Once Melissa had recovered from her orgasm and moved off the strap, you slid off the bed. With your back turned to the redhead, you removed the strap in exchange for sweatpants. You refused to look at Mel when you spoke, “You need to go.”

“What?” She whipped her head around. Her brows were furrowed, and if you would have turned around, you would have seen the hurt in her eyes. 

“Leave. I can’t get over you if you are still here.” You cleared your throat uncomfortably as you pulled a shirt over your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or wretch - regardless you were in pain with the line you drew in the sand for Melissa.

Melissa’s voice was soft… softer than you had ever known, “Hon…” 

“Have mercy, Melissa.” 

Four Months Later

The bartender placed a drink on the bar before you, earning them a furrowed brow and questioning glance. They gave a toothy grin in response and pointed down the bar to your left, “It's from the redhead.”

Your stomach sank at the prospect, and the bartender noticed how your features drooped. With a sympathetic glance, they let you be with your thoughts. 

Melissa. It had to be her. 

You stared down at the wood grain of the bar, debating if you even wanted to open the wounds that were barely healed as it was. Even a glance felt like too much for you now. You weren’t ready for this after everything ended so terribly.

But it didn’t seem like Melissa was giving you much of a choice as her plump hand crept from your shoulder blade to your shoulder, “Long time no see.”

Link to Chapter 4

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #toxic relationship

[pizzadares]

#pizzadare #naked pizza #delivery #nude delivery

[still-a-morosexual-help]

Read the temporarily free pages of the OM! manga and here's my conclusion:

• The way they handled the whole MC appearance/name thing was really good without having to resort to a beloved character, whom everyone has their own impression of, being replaced by some random new character they created

• Zephyr is an amazing temporary name for MC, specially because it was the wind that blew the papers leading to MC's selection. I also like how both this initial incident and the naming are connected to Lucifer alone and I like to think even after they find out MC's name he still occasionally calls them that. (HC that game Lucifer also comes around to calling MC 'Zephyr' because it's such a cool name/nickname)

• Manga Mammon is so much nicer to MC than game Mammon!??? Game Mammon & MC were at each other's throats (however briefly) at the beginning (which to be fair, I really loved) while Manga Mammon is already extremely protective of them, gets genuinely angry when they're in danger and already calls them "my human". Why's this MC even making a pact with him to get him to protect them when he's already doing that and has vowed to do that for the rest of the year???

• Mammon's first instinct is to protect people, even strangers, even if that means he has to sacrifice money to do that. It's when he stops to think about it later that he starts crying about the money. Which.....he's so good????

• Also unbothered King 👑 He treated a bank robber with a genuinely terrifying weapon as a minor inconvenience, told the robber to pay him if he wanted Mammon to cooperate (i love him???), and then just goes about his business

• also i want his gender. The nude aphrodite picture? the maid uniform? the postal delivery crop top? The business man with the slicked back hair? All bangers

• Also whoever's drawing this manga is simping hard for Mammon. There's four? five? bare ass shots within 2 issues for just....no reason? other than to see Mammon's ass?????

• this is just beautiful 'nuff said

#obey me the comic #obey me manga #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #shall we date? obey me! #swd obey me #swd obey me! #shall we date obey me #obey me mammon #om! mammon #om mammon #obey me! mammon #swd mammon #shall we date mammon #obey me mammon! #mammon obey me #mammon x mc #mc x mammon #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me! lucifer #swd lucifer #shall we date lucifer #obey me main character #obey me mc #obey me! mc #om! mc #om mc

[notsentimentalll]

Joel Miller Masterlist

NONE OF THIS FANFICTIONS ARE MINE!

I've been reading for a while and I want to keep track of the best things I've read, while also sharing. So, I will be upgrading this constantly! Main masterlist here

Joel's children by absurdthirst

One night together in Jackson leads to the discovery that Joel is going to be a father again, right as he lets Ellie back into his heart. Only for that to be threatened when you all meet up with the Fireflies again.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, shower sex, vaginal sex, pregnancy, vomiting, angst, mentions of medical procedures, murder, Joel being ruthless for those he loves.

Subscribe by joelmillerisapunk

When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

Warnings: Reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF, two consenting adults.

Her bodyguard, His shining star by mermaidgirl30

You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44).

Wrong delivery by bitchesuntitled

Sleepin' with the hot construction guy doing the remodel at your work, he winds up buying flowers for someone else...

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. No outbreak/pre outbreak(you decide), fluff, smut, miscommunication, cussing, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv, cream pie, Joel being a dork.

I run to you by backtothefanfiction

When your abusive ex turns up drunk on your doorstep, yet again, there’s only one person you can turn to.

Warnings: Angst, implied past domestic assault, high school sweethearts, hurt/comfort, make out session.

Have a good night by punkshort

Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.

Warnings: No outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions.

Grays by mrsmando

You wanted to show Joel just how much he means to you. 

Warnings: jackson!joel, unspecified age gap (20+ years), but reader is of course an adult, established relationship, cursing, spicy thoughts & happenings, joel miller will never play golf here, 18+ mdni.

Papi chulo by yxtkiwiyxt

You and Joel take your first vacation away from Sarah after becoming parents and discover that you like using a new nickname on your incredibly sexy husband.

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, flirting, kissing, language, brief insecurity about body post baby, alcohol, teasing, size kink? dirty talk, fingering, papi kink (aka daddy kink), 3 punani slaps, sex on a yacht, unprotected p in v sex, praise, pet names, latino!actor!Joel.

Maybe someday by bingbongsupremacy

You've been hardcore crushing on your neighbor Joel Miller since the day he, Tess and Ellie arrived in Jackson. Rumor has it he's in a relationship with Tess. Maybe someday he'll finally return your feelings.

Warnings: Unspecified.

Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes by love4pascal

Just another barbecue at the Miller's, right?

Warnings: Fluff, age gap (readers 26 & Joel is 33) Joel and reader have been friends for 4 years so, Fake dating, creepy neighbors husband, protective!joel for like 2 seconds.

Joel's secret love by joelastofus

Joel is secretly in love with Tommy’s girlfriend and comforts her while his brother is in jail. God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, protective!Joel.

Owned by milla-frenchy

Just smut

Warnings: 18+ mdni. age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, possessiveness, piv, creampie

Harvest moon by joelmillersmunch

Joel Miller can't keep his eyes off of you. And damn, that ass is nice.

Warnings: Fluff, some cussing, ass staring. Mostly just Joel Miller being in love and Tommy Miller being a little shit. Age gap, but both reader and Joel are grown adults (like reader is 30s Joel is early 50s) Joel has some anxiety, but nothing too descriptive. Canon divergence.

Diehard by gutsby

Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Warnings: Unprotected p-in-v. Erectile dysfunction. Daddy kink. Praise kink if you squint. Overstimulation. Cumplay. She/her pussy pronouns. Pushing physical limits with a pre-negotiated safe word in place for it.

Ruined! by gutsby

Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

But daddy I love him by talaok

You and Joel shouldn't be together. According to the people in Jackson, he's a bad, cruel, crazy man, and yet... he's all you ever wanted.

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v), angst, blood, physical fight (?), happy ending (cause of course)

Series

Trial & error by thetriumphantpanda

 Tommy has always been the loyal and doting boyfriend, the literal man of your dreams. Ready to take things to the next step, you soon find that Tommy is unable to have children. A family is all you've ever wanted, and neither of you are going to let this get in your way. Enter Joel, dark and mysterious and willing to do anything for his little brother, including fucking his girlfriend to get her pregnant. That's what brothers are for, right?

Warnings: Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel miller. Pre/No Outbreak AU. Talk of infertility, mention of consuming alcohol, Breeding kink, girlfriend sharing. Several other warning vary. 

Roomates by punkshort

Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, lines get blurred.

Warnings: No outbreak -au-. Pornstar!Joel Miller x f!reader. Language, smut (18+ MDNI), slow burn, cigarette use, some descriptions of porn (obviously), angst, mutual pining, jealousy, possessive behavior, infidelity (reader cheating on OC), alcohol use.

 But I would die for you in secret by wheresarizona 

The relationship you have with Joel Miller is... complicated, and you're not entirely sure what to even call it. There's the fact no one can know, so his kid doesn't find out, and you're pretty sure he's ashamed of your age difference—he's not your boyfriend, but you only fuck each other; this thing started months ago, and Joel does not like it when men give you attention, because he wants you all to himself. But again, he's not your sexy, older boyfriend.

Warnings: Explicit smut (18+), no y/n, alternating pov, porn with some plot, Possessive Joel Miller, Dominant Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), secret relationship, sneaking around, accidental voyeurism, orgasm denial, mutual masturbation, dirty talk (so much), oral sex (f & m receiving), deepthroating, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), rough sex, creampie, spanking, spit as lube, biting, love confession, Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, TLOU AU where Joel doesn't lie to Ellie and they're good when they get back to Jackson.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters

[yesmansyesman]

Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)

SURPRISE DELIVERY

[ Includes ]

Sending nudes (Bet you can guess to who)

Mentions of nudity

Yes Man practically going insane (In a good way)

[ Read at your own discretion! ]

“Wait, you’re telling me my Pip-Boy…broke?”

“Apparently, or at least that’s what my terminal says, boss.”

“Huh. Guess these things weren’t as indestructible as I thought.”

“Well, Deathclaws tend to make people say that about most things.”

Raul further examined your Pip-Boy, as it laid dormant on his desk. It had been dismantled, circuits and parts littering his desk, with several wires connecting the Pip-Boy to Raul’s personal terminal. A few moments of carefully scanning the Pip-Boy, Raul finally spoke again.

“Luckily for you, the main CPU wasn’t damaged at all. I reckon all you need is a new screen and a few replacement parts. It should be an easy fix, I have plenty of Pip-Boys to spare.”

“Plenty…?”

“Vault Dwellers aren’t as hard to kill as you are, boss. If you go looking, Pip-Boys are as common as dirt around here.”

“Huh.”

“Stay here, I’ll go see what I can find.”

Raul lifted himself off his chair, scavenging through an unorganized metal crate. Digging through piles of Pip-Boys, most of which were still stained with blood. After a few moments, he retrieved a relatively clean Pip-Boy, tossing it carelessly onto his desk. 

“This should be clean. Enough.”

He delicately dismantled the Pip-Boy, removing its cover. Say what you want about RobCo, they sure knew how to pack circuits into a compact space. The Pip-Boy was practically overfilling with the amount of circuitry housed inside.

“Now, this is the Pip-Boy 3000D, which is a slightly different model than your Pip-Boy. But, it should still be compatible.”

You examined the Pip-Boy more carefully, noticing the slight differences between the two models after Raul pointed it out. After scanning and rapidly comparing the two Pip-Boys, you noticed something completely different.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, this? Just a camera.”

“Camera? They made Pip-Boys with cameras?”

“They’ve made Pip-Boys with everything. One model could play video games.”

“Wow. I learn something new everyday.”

“I can install a camera in your Pip-Boy if you want, boss.”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, just help me hold it still.”

Quest completed

NEW AND IMPROVED

You’d never imagine a camera being so useful out in the Mojave, but if you had to rank your best life choices in a list, getting the upgrade would probably be first. From taking pictures of notable locations for easier navigation, or helping you find your way after getting lost, it’s a wonder why RobCo didn’t add a camera into every Pip-Boy model.

Its best use, however, was taking selfies to send to your lovable automat companion. Your Pip-Boy already had the ability to send messages to any RobCo device, so using it to send small, frequent updates was as easy as it was fun. Not to mention it certainly seemed to make Yes Man happier.

“Courier!”

Ah, speak of the devil.

“Hm? Yes, Yes Man?”

“I just came in to remind you that we’re scheduled to go scout out the Mojave in 2 minutes! And you’re still…not dressed. Which is fine, take your time!”

“Oh, crap. I completely forgot, my bad.” “No problem! Just hurry up! Please!”

You hurriedly get off your bed, rushing towards your bathroom, armour and equipment haphazardly cradled in your arms. Once inside, you rush to take off your casual loungewear, haphazardly placing your clothes, and Pip-Boy, on the vanity.

Snap!

What was that?

You scan your surroundings, searching for the source of the sound. Just then, you notice a familiar prompt appear on your  Pip-Boy; ‘New Photo Taken. View Photo?’ 

Oh. You must have accidentally hit the camera button on the vanity. You sigh, and pick up the device. You accept the prompt, expecting a blurry mess, and getting ready to delete the photo. However, what ended up appearing on your display was far clearer than you were expecting; in fact, a relatively well-shot picture showing off your nude body. Had you not known it was you, it could’ve been passed as some pre-war erotica.

Erotica, hm?

I think I know someone who might appreciate this.

Quest added

SURPRISE DELIVERY

Bing!

Bing!

Bing!

That’s odd, Yes Man thought to himself. He was receiving a sudden influx of messages from Courier. Weren’t they changing? Why would they be sending so much stuff? He sighed, temporarily disconnecting from his Securitron body to take a look. He examined the pile of notifications, opening one of them at random.

Oh.

Oh my.

Yes Man could feel his main processor stuttering slightly from the shock. All he could do was stare in awe at the picture you’d sent him; a beautifully taken view of your gorgeous, gorgeous body. He opened another in disbelief; an ass pic. Another; your thighs.

Wow.

Yes Man felt his Securitron body noticeably heat up. His antenna began to spin at alarming rates, and his claws twitched. He stared hungrily at the images, saving as many as he could.

God, you were so beautiful.

It was like Yes Man had just been stranded in the Mojave to starve, and your pictures were a gift from the heavens full of water and food. He couldn’t. Stop. Staring. His mind wandered, fantasizing about touching every inch of that stunning body. What he wanted to do, what he wished he could do. He was lucky that only his main memory bank wasn’t filtered for any inappropriate content, because all he wanted to do was memorize each pixel you’d sent him.

Quest completed

SURPRISE DELIVERY

Quest added

GAUGING THE REACTION

You walked out of your bathroom, donning your Ranger armour and of course, your Pip-Boy. You cheerfully walked down to the Lucky 38 lobby, where Yes Man was waiting. 

“Hey, Yes Man. You look a little flushed, may I ask why?”

“...”

You chuckle, that mere few moments of silence proved your little surprise had worked. As you began to innocently make your way to the front door, a metal claw grasped at your wrist, tugging it almost as if anchoring you to the Lucky 38.

“Yes Ma-”

Your eyes widened in shock as you felt Yes Man pull you in, tightly wrapping his metallic arms around you, and practically smothering your face with the glow of his display. Was..was he kissing you?

“G-gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous-”

Crap, did I break him?

Quest completed

GAUGING THE REACTION

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout new vegas #yes man #yes man fallout #fnv #fnv courier #yes man fnv #fallout nv #new vegas #courier 6 #courier six #fnv yes man #raul tejada #lucky 38 #yes man x reader #yes man x y/n #no y/n #self insert #self indulgent #self indulgence at its finest #filthy thoughts #nudity #my fic #my fanfiction #my writing

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for kicking a friend out of my house for sitting on my couch?

I had a friend over, ages and gender don't matter, but we are both over 21 and identify as the same gender. I own my own house.

Me and this person both grew up in similar towns and met during university. We clicked instantly and have been friends since. This person found out I have family who are naturalists- at least that is what they call themselves, for more simple terms they are nudists. It is my extended family and, as far as I know, no one in my immediate family is.

Now, I have nothing wrong with that. Do what you want! Especially in the privacy of your own home. There are obviously some places that will enforce rules (like a restaurant) and some that won't, but personally if you are comfortable feel free to do it.

I don't. In my own home, sure. But not around people unless I am intimate with them. It's just never been my thing due to reasons that I won't list here. Have I seen people flash or be nude in front of me out at beaches? Sure, I don't care I just ignore it. But it isnt for me. This friend knows this after trying to invite me to a nude beach. I explained that I just don't feel comfortable and tried to list a few reasons, but they kept interrupting and telling me to get over my insecurity.

Well, they came over and we ordered pizza. I knew the delivery guy so we chatted a bit, then I paid and went back to the living room. My friend was naked. On my couch.

Proper etiquette, according to my family as they have tried to educate us, is to bring a towel. That way, sweat or bodily fluids don't get on other peoples' furniture. My friend did not do that.

I was shocked and asked what they were doing. They told me I needed an intervention and to get used to nudity, and that I should also strip. I told them no, and that they needed to get dressed as this is my house and they are sitting on MY couch. They ended up saying I was body shaming and so insecure I'd be sex repulsed eventually?

We ended up arguing and they kept talking over me so finally I just kicked them out and ate my pizza in silence. This friend has not responded to my text where I tried to say hey let's talk about what happened. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[tigertales9]

Hard Reset VIII

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut / Fluff

Description: This fic covers the trip to fall fest, plus a little before & after, during the bye week secret honeymoon.

Time/Place: Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023 / the lakehouse + fall fest

A/N: This is the eighth fic in the Hard Reset series.

I had a lot of fun writing this fall fest chapter. I actually had a few more ideas, but I nixed them because it was getting too long. I have one more lakehouse/honeymoon chapter to post after this, and then we'll be heading back to the city. I'm really busy right now due to the holidays, but I'll try to have the next installment up in the next week or so.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The smell of coffee entices you awake the next morning; you stretch your deliciously sore, nude body under the soft sheets before fluttering your eyes open, smiling at Joe as he leans over you holding a large cup of coffee, a twinkle in his eyes as he blows coffee fumes in your direction.

"What are you doing?" you laugh, pushing up into a sitting position and making a half-ass effort to tame your bedhead.

"I knew if you smelled this coffee you'd wake up," he gloats, obviously proud of himself for being right.

"Well, it smells amazing," you groan, making grabby hands at the oversized cup. "Thank you," you sigh, taking a small sip to gauge the heat level. You lick your lips in appreciation and take another sip while looking at the logo on the side of the cup. "The Cove Café," you read out loud, recognizing it as the one-stop-shop type of place -- conveniently located just across the lake -- that specializes in coffee, pastries, sandwiches, smoothies and gelato. "Did you get it delivered?"

"Yeah. The delivery guy came by boat since it's only about five minutes instead of twenty minutes by car on these curvy, winding roads. I met him down at the dock."

"It's still nice and hot," you state, shivering a little as you warm both hands on the cup and take another sip.

"Are you cold?" Joe asks.

"A little."

He whips his long sleeve t-shirt off and hands it to you, holding your coffee cup while you shimmy into it. "Better?" he asks, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips before handing your cup back to you.

"Much better, thanks."

"Good." He stares at you for several heartbeats, his expression hard to read in the dim light.

"What are you thinking?" you eventually ask.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. "You know last night when we saw the shooting star or possible UFO?"

"Yeah."

"And you said you didn't wish for anything because you already have everything you want?"

"Yeah," you repeat, slightly concerned at the intense look on his face.

"Were you talking about me? Because I thought you were, but then I kind of talked myself out of it and …"

"Of course I was talking about you," you soothe, brushing your fingers through his tousled curls while giving him a smile. "You're everything I've ever wanted and more."

"Okay, good," he mutters, giving you a sheepish smile. "Just wanted to make sure." He breaks eye contact and fiddles with his wristbands as he continues. "I've been worried that I might have rushed you into this secret marriage thing."

"You didn't rush me at all," you assure him. "I wanted this just as much as you."

"That's hard to believe, but I'll take your word for it."

You try to think of something to say to reassure him, your mind landing on a thought from last night. "Remember when you said there's no place in the world you'd rather be than right here with me?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"I got a little distracted by your sexy self before I could tell you this, but I had that exact same thought earlier in the night. Like the exact same. It's almost like you read my mind."

"That's really cool," he grins, leaning forward to give you a kiss. "We've always been on the same wavelength." He gives you a playful wink before hopping up and heading for the door. "I'm gonna turn the heat up a bit and grab a couple things. Be right back."

You enjoy your caramel-flavored coffee for a few minutes before raising a hand to brush your hair out of your face, the motion causing you to catch a whiff of Joe's scent on the t-shirt you're wearing; you grab a handful of material and bring it to your nose, inhaling deeply as a throb of arousal kicks off in your core. "Absolutely not," you grumble, looking down at your sheet-covered lap as you continue. "Plenty of time for that later. Plus, you're still a little sore from last night so behave yourself. "

"Who are you talking to?" Joe asks as he breezes back in carrying a large smoothie and a plate with two huge muffins.

"My vagina."

"What?" he snort-laughs.

"I caught your scent on this shirt and it made my vag perk up, but I shut it down. We need to get to the fall fest before the rain gets here. Plenty of time to get naughty later."

"Great, now I'm getting cockblocked by fall fest," he teases, grinning as he hands you a fat muffin.

"You've got sex on the brain."

"Says the woman with the perky vag."

"Touché," you chuckle, sinking your teeth into the sweet smelling muffin. "Oh my gosh," you moan after chewing and swallowing. "What flavor is this?"

"Apple cinnamon streusel."

"It's delicious," you enthuse, taking another bite as he crawls in bed beside you and takes a bite of his muffin. "What flavor is your smoothie?" you ask, taking a sip as he offers it to you.

"Harvest bounty or something like that," he shrugs. "It has like fifteen ingredients."

"It's good," you mumble, turning your attention back to your much tastier coffee and muffin. Smoothies were def his thing more than your thing.

Y'all finish eating breakfast while exchanging small talk.

"How does your calf feel?" you ask.

"Fine. I did all of my stretches when I got up this morning and it felt good. I thought about getting in a quick work-out, but I'm still tired from the work-out you gave me last night."

"Yeah, my legs feel like jelly, and I haven't even tried to stand up yet." Y'all laugh a little before you continue. "I still can't believe you had our exact same home gym replicated here at the lakehouse."

He shrugs. "It was easy. I just ordered the equipment and sent Max a few pics of the set-up I wanted. He met the delivery guys here and showed them where to put everything."

"Is Max going to be our caretaker here?"

"Yeah. I offered him the job and he accepted. I insisted on giving him a substantial raise. He said he didn't need it, but he gave in once he realized I wasn't gonna back down."

"You're never gonna beat the stubborn allegations."

"Ain't even trying," he chuckles, giving you a cocky grin before polishing off his muffin.

"Why don't you check the weather report real quick," you urge. "See what time the rain is gonna start."

He grabs his phone and scrolls for a minute. "Looks like it won't start until early evening. We'll have plenty of time to enjoy fall fest before the storm rolls in."

"Yay!" you chirp, handing him the last bite of your muffin before easing out of bed and heading for the bathroom. "I'm gonna get a quick shower and get dressed. I'll be ready in about thirty or forty minutes."

"Babe?" he asks, just before you disappear into the en suite bathroom.

"Yeah?" you turn to look at him.

"The high temp today is 69," he purrs, giving you a filthy wink. "Pretty sure that's a good omen for tonight."

"It's good to know marriage hasn't tamed your horniness," you giggle, shaking your head as you head for the shower.

~ ~ ~

Forty-five minutes later, y'all are driving the winding road that circles the lake, finally headed to the farmers market fall fest that you've been looking forward to since it was first mentioned.

"I'm so excited!" you enthuse. "What are you looking forward to the most?" you ask.

"Pumpkin spice doughnuts and getting a couple of actual pumpkins to carve tonight." He flashes you a smile before returning his attention to the road. "What about you?"

"Both of those plus getting some apple cider to go with the spiced rum we brought."

"Are we gonna get lit while carving the pumpkins?"

"Just a little tipsy," you giggle. "We're on vacay after all." You turn your head to look at him, giving him a slow perusal as he navigates the curvy road with one big hand gripping the steering wheel. He's wearing a black backwards cap, sunglasses, a plaid flannel shirt in shades of black, gray and blue unbuttoned over a white t-shirt, plus his fav gray jeans that are stretched tight over his thick thighs. The cuffs of his shirt are rolled up to reveal his sinewy forearms, and your eyes are drawn to a prominent vein that snakes down from his elbow to his wrist.

You bite your lip and squirm in your seat when you think about another prominent vein farther south on his body that you spent quite awhile teasing with your tongue last night.

He cuts a glance at you, one eyebrow raised above the frame of his shades. "What?" he grins, reading your body language with ease.

"Just enjoying the view," you murmur.

"The view is that way," he states, pointing toward the lake in the opposite direction

"Nope, it's definitely this way," you tease, taking your sunglasses off to bat your eyelashes while ogling him.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'm gonna turn this car around and take you right back to bed."

You give him a wink before sliding your shades back on. "I'll behave since I really wanna go to fall fest."

"Cockblocked by fall fest once again," he grumbles playfully.

"I'll make it up to you later," you promise.

~ ~ ~

Y'all pull into the parking lot about fifteen minutes later, breathing a sigh of relief that very few cars are already there. "Not too many folks here on a week-day morning," you state, grabbing your purse plus a reusable shopping bag before you exit the car. You walk beside Joe toward the entrance, smiling to yourself when he instinctively matches his much longer strides to your shorter ones.

"Ohhh, let's hit the pumpkin patch first," he urges, pointing just to the left of the main entrance where it seems there are about a thousand pumpkins sitting pretty in the late-morning sun. You quickly agree, and y'all split up to select the perfect pumpkins for carving.

After about ten minutes of serious pumpkin perusal, you hear Joe's voice coming from one row over.

"Babe?"

You can't see him due to the hay bales stacked between each row. "Yeah?" you answer, leaning down to thump your fingers against a shiny, plump candidate, making a stank face at the dull thud you get back.

"Can you come here real quick?" he continues.

"Sure." You walk to the end of the row, turn the corner and head toward him, smiling when he points at a cute display -- a jaunty scarecrow, several hay bales, and about a dozen colorful mums situated in front of a mound of pumpkins. "You're taller than the scarecrow," you tease, giggling when he sticks his tongue out at you.

"Let's take a pic real quick," he urges, waiting for you to drop your bags out of frame before joining him in front of the display. He snaps a few pics, his long arm working just as good as any selfie stick. "These are great," he states, showing you the results.

"They really are," you agree, "and we totally match," you continue. You're in another pair of black leggings with your black knee boots, a fitted white t-shirt, and a long sleeve button down shirt in a soft, medium-wash denim. You left your coat in the car because it wasn't cold enough for it.

"For real," he muses. "The Story of Us - Volume Two is gonna be awesome," he grins.

You give him a quick kiss before grabbing your bags and heading one row over to continue searching for the perfect pumpkin.

About fifteen minutes later, you round the corner again holding the ultimate carving pumpkin. You jump a bit as you immediately come face to face with Joe holding his own gorgeous gourd. Y'all eye each other's selections for a few seconds, nodding approval. His selection is tall and sturdy while yours is shorter and more voluptuous. "Perfect," he says, taking your pumpkin from you. "I'll pay for these and take them to the car while you get in line for doughnuts. I'll get the warm apple cider and come find you."

"Okay," you grin, walking toward the main entrance, your heart full of love for your bossy husband.

You're still standing in line several minutes later when Joe walks up with two cups, handing you one. "It's delicious," he says, waiting for you to take a sip of the steaming beverage, closely watching your face for your reaction. "Delicious," you echo, taking another sip before stepping forward to order your doughnuts.

Y'all eat the spicy, warm pastries washed down with cider while walking and inspecting the wares at the various booths selling fruits and vegetables, homemade goods, arts and crafts, home decor, plus lots of food and drink.

You stop in front of a display of plush blankets, quickly digging in your purse for a wet wipe from your travel pack, cleaning your hands before handing the wipe to Joe to do the same. You dry your hands on a clean napkin before reaching out to fondle one of the throws. "Sooo soft," you murmur, watching as Joe roots around in the pile of blankets before pulling out one adorned with an autumn-hued plaid with just a hint of teal.

"Perfect for the lakehouse, right?" he grins.

"Perfect," you agree.

"Let's get one for the city, too," he mutters, watching closely as you dig around for a more neutral-colored throw. "Jackpot," he states as you hold one up for inspection.

"These would make great Christmas presents," you muse, spending the next several minutes trying to decide which throws to get for everyone.

"Let's just get all of 'em, and we'll decide who to give 'em to later," Joe urges.

You agree, giving a warm smile to the vendor when he comes over to check y'all out. He raises his eyebrows as he looks at Joe. "You look kinda familiar," the vendor says. "You come here often?"

"No," Joe answers as he hands over some cash. "This is our first time here."

"We're from out of town," you add.

"I see," the vendor says, returning your smile before handing Joe his change.

"Keep the change," Joe says before y'all help the vendor stuff fourteen fluffy blankets into a couple of oversized paper shopping bags. "I'll take these to the car," Joe mutters, flashing you a conspiratorial smile. "You keep browsing."

You make it as far as the next booth before Joe catches up with you; he walks up waggling a small paper bag. "Spicy roasted nuts," he mumbles around a mouthful of said nuts. "I needed some protein to go with all the carbs."

"Good idea, babe," you state, sticking a candle under his nose. "You like this scent?"

He inhales the aroma and immediately nods his head. "Love it. What is it?"

"Honey vanilla. I like that it's not too sweet. I think I'll get a couple," you continue, placing the lid back on the candle you're holding before reaching for another one.

"Get more than a couple," Joe orders before tossing another handful of nuts in his mouth.

"They have eight of this fragrance. How many should we get?"

"Get all of 'em," he urges. "It's not like they'll go bad before we can use 'em. We can leave some here and take some back to the city."

You give him a smile and nod in agreement, secretly thrilled that he seems to be really enjoying his fall fest experience. "You keep browsing," you say. "I'll pay for these then catch up with you."

You help the vendor double wrap your candles in tissue paper to protect the glass containers before stashing them in your reusable shopping bag; as you make your way up the row of booths, you spot Joe ambling along, his head turning side-to-side to take in all of the goods. "Hey," you greet as you catch up with him.

"Hey," he echoes, holding his paper bag out to you. "Wanna taste my nuts?"

Your mouth drops open as you unleash an inelegant snort-laugh, laughing even harder when he shakes his head.

"And you accuse me of having sex on the brain," he chuckles.

"You do have sex on the brain," you state, grabbing a handful of his nuts and tossing them in your mouth.

"I mean … yeah, but can you blame me?" he asks. "I've got a smoking hot wife."

"You're getting laid tonight, Burrow," you slide your sunglasses down and give him a wink. "No flattery needed."

"It's not flattery. It's the truth."

You give him a smile and take another handful of nuts as y'all continue strolling up the row.

"Pumpkin tic-tac-toe!" Joe chirps, grabbing your hand and leading you to a display that features a square, black table with orange tape used to create the tic-tac-toe rows; there's a hay bale in front of the table holding five white and five orange mini pumpkins, each about the size of a grapefruit. "How much to play?" Joe asks the elderly man sitting in a folding chair reading a newspaper.

"You can play for free," he answers, nodding at a large glass jar with some coins and dollar bills in it. "But if you'd like to make a donation to the local food bank, we'd appreciate it."

Joe gives him a nod and stuffs several twenties in the jar before leveling a 'game face' look at you. "Which color would you like to lose with?" he teases, "white or orange?"

"I'll take white," you answer, knowing he'll def want the orange.

"You go first," he urges, raising one eyebrow when you place a white pumpkin in the upper right corner; after a few more moves, the game ends in a draw. "Okay, my turn to go first," he mutters, plopping his orange pumpkin in the center square. After a few more moves, the game ends in another draw and Joe gives you an evil grin. "You'll slip up in a minute," he states. "It's only a matter of time.

Y'all play several more games with each ending in a draw.

"Looks like we're pretty evenly matched," you eventually muse, giggling when he makes a stank face. "One more game," you continue, knowing you have to end this or y'all will still be playing when the storm rolls in; you set a white pumpkin down top center, smiling at Joe when he tilts his head and gives you a look before setting his own pumpkin down. He wins the game fairly quickly after.

"Congrats," you smile, picking up your purse and shopping bag while Joe cuts a look at the vendor who's been mostly ignoring y'all while reading his paper.

"She let me win, didn't she?" Joe asks.

"She sure did," the vendor grins. "Good woman you got there."

"The best," Joe agrees, swatting your butt playfully as y'all head toward the next booth.

You stop in front of the booth, intrigued by several colorful fondue pots holding glossy tan liquid. Joe stops beside you and reads the card in front of each fondue pot. "Salted caramel, cinnamon caramel, chocolate caramel, peanut butter caramel, dairy-free caramel." He gives you a beaming smile when he reads the last card. "Dairy-free," he purrs, turning the full wattage of his smile on the vendor as he steps closer to the booth.

"Would you like to sample the dairy-free?" she asks, somehow managing to tear her eyes away from Joe for a second to include you in her offer.

"Yes," he states, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips in anticipation. The vendor, who looks to be in her late teens, seems mesmerized by him for a few seconds before clearing her throat and forging ahead.

"I have homemade marshmallows and apple slices you can dip in the caramel. Do any of those sound good?"

"Yes and yes," Joe enthuses, snatching an apple slice off of the plate she holds toward him before dunking it in the caramel and offering it to you; you hold eye contact with him as you bite into the juicy delicacy, chewing slowly as he watches you closely. "Is it good?" he asks, popping the rest of the apple slice in his mouth before grabbing a marshmallow.

"It's delicious," you answer, a little surprised at how good it actually is.

He dips the marshmallow in the caramel -- careful not to touch his fingers in the glossy goo -- and tosses it in his mouth, his eyes going wide as he chews. "Really good," he mumbles, grabbing another marshmallow and ripping it in half before dunking half and offering it to you.

"We have these little forks you can use," the vendor offers, waving her hand at several long, narrow forks before gracing Joe with a smile.

"I'd rather feed her with my fingers," Joe states. "I promise not to touch the caramel or double dip."

You chew the caramel-coated marshmallow and throw a grin at the vendor who tears her gaze away from Joe to return your smile. "This is the best dairy-free caramel I've ever tasted," you state. "Do you sell the marshmallows, too?"

"Yes," she mutters, stepping back as an older woman walks up with a big smile on her face. "You like the dairy-free caramel, huh?" she asks, looking back and forth between you and Joe.

"Love it," you answer.

"I have four jars left …"

"We'll take all four," you and Joe say in unison, laughing at the synchronicity.

"Can we get a couple bags of marshmallows, too?" Joe asks, grinning when she gives him a nod and reaches down to grab a couple bags of the fat, fluffy confections.

"Anything else?" she asks, bagging up your purchases as you eye a few boxes on a side table. "You sell the fondue pots, too?" you inquire, grinning at Joe as he walks over and looks at the dozen or so boxes.

"Sure do," she answers, "only have a few left though. What color do you want?"

"Teal," you and Joe answer together, pointing at one of her sample pots and, once again, laughing at the synchronicity.

"You kids seem to be on the same wavelength," she chuckles, grabbing a box and adding it to your bag.

"It's kind of our thing," Joe brags, paying for the purchases while you wait.

You turn your head and spot the younger girl who'd helped you earlier snapping a pic of Joe, her eyes going wide when she realizes she's been caught. You walk toward her, smiling when she mumbles an apology. "You recognize him?" you ask.

"Yeah," she whispers. "He's Joe Burrow and you're his fiancée."

"Want a pic with him?"

"Really?" she asks, her face lighting up.

"Sure," you answer, waving Joe over. You take her phone and instruct Joe to pose, laughing internally at his obvious hover hand as you snap the pic.

"Thanks!" she enthuses as you hand her phone back to her.

"You're welcome," you grin, taking Joe's hand as y'all walk to the next booth.

"Can we do the fondue thing tonight?" Joe asks, plowing ahead before you answer. "We have marshmallows to dip, and maybe we can get a few more pumpkin spice doughnuts and some apples."

"Sounds like a sugar rush, but I'm down," you say, "but we still need to stop at the grocery store and get some actual food to cook for dinner. I don't want to force a delivery driver to venture out in a thunderstorm later."

"Okay," he agrees, his beaming smile coaxing an answering smile to your lips.

~ ~ ~

A few hours later y'all arrive back at the lakehouse, making several trips to bring in your haul.

You pop a jug of apple cider in the fridge -- along with some salmon and a chopped salad y'all got at the grocery store for dinner-- before heading back out to help Joe bring in more stuff.

"I've got this, babe," he says, lugging several bags in while giving you a wink. "Why don't you heat up some cider with a little spiced rum, and we can sit on the deck and enjoy the sunset?"

"Do we have time before the storm gets here?"

"Yeah," he says, dropping the bags before heading back out. "I checked the radar, and we have about an hour before the storm gets here."

You do his bidding, heating up some cider and rum in oversized mugs, taking a swig and making a face as he strolls back in and plops the pumpkins on the kitchen island.

"Wow, that's potent," you giggle, taking another gulp as you push his mug toward him.

"It's delicious," he moans, taking his cap off and tossing it on the island before grabbing your new plush throw -- autumn-hued with a hint of teal -- and nodding toward the back deck. "Let's go enjoy the sunset."

Joe lights the fire pit before joining you on the loveseat, wrapping the blanket around you both as you hold the mugs of boozy cider; you hand him his mug and snuggle up against him, throwing your legs over one of his thick thighs and resting your head on his shoulder.

"I'm so glad the adjacent lots came with the house," you muse.

"Yeah," Joe agrees. "I was already in love with the house, but when I found out it was sitting directly in the center of three oversized lots, I was totally sold."

"Lots of privacy," you grin, snuggling tighter against his warm body as the wind picks up, blowing some of the jewel-colored leaves off the trees. "The temp is dropping pretty quick, and the clouds are rolling in," you say. "Rain's gonna be here sooner than expected."

"We probably have another twenty minutes or so to enjoy the sunset before it gets here."

"That's good," you murmur. "Thanks for taking me to fall fest," you continue, kissing his neck before taking another swig of your cider.

"You're welcome. I had fun, especially since very few folks recognized me."

"I think several people may have recognized you but just didn't say anything. It's hard to say if they were staring at you because you looked familiar or because you're sex on legs."

"You're getting laid tonight, Mrs. Burrow," he repeats your earlier words. "No need for flattery."

"It's the absolute truth and you know it," you state, heaving a happy sigh as he curls an arm around your waist under the soft blanket, his long fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hip through your leggings.

Y'all sip your drinks and admire the view for a few minutes before you speak up again.

"I've been thinking," you mutter, tilting your head to look at him. "What will we say if folks find out we got secretly married?"

"I'll take all of the blame, of course," he states, "since it was my idea."

"But what will we tell folks if they ask why we did it?"

"The truth," he shrugs. "I wanted to do it to give me one less thing to stress over."

"And what if someone says 'You were already getting married in the off-season. You couldn't wait?'"

"I'll say no, I couldn't wait to make you mine." His gaze drops to your lips just before he presses his mouth to yours, licking along the seam of your lips to coax them open, deepening the kiss as he pulls you closer. You lean into the kiss for a few minutes before pulling back slightly. "I've been yours since the night we shared our first kiss," you whisper against his slick lips. He lifts his head to meet your eyes. "And now it's official," he grins. "You're stuck with me for life."

You continue grinning at each other like lovesick fools until he flinches and reaches a hand up to the top of his head. "Please don't let that be bird shit," he grumbles, sighing in relief when a light patter of rain starts falling. "It's just rain," he chuckles, taking your mug of cider and setting it down beside his on the coffee table. "Hurry inside before our kickass blanket gets wet," he orders. "I'll put the cover on the fire pit."

You rush inside and watch through a window as he grabs the fire pit cover and secures it in place before grabbing both mugs and heading your way; you hold the door open for him as he hurries inside just before the rain intensifies.

"Well, we got to see most of the sunset," he smiles, handing you a mug before running his fingers through his slightly-damp hair. 'Wanna carve the pumpkins now?"

"Sure," you answer. "Where are we gonna do it?"

"Let me get a fire going, and we can move the table in front of the fireplace."

"Sounds good." You drape the blanket over the back of the sofa before heading toward the kitchen. "Let's light a few of our new candles, too." You pull four of the eight candles out of your shopping bag and set them on either side of the large stone hearth, waiting for Joe to get the fire going before taking the stick lighter from him to light the candles. "Super cozy," you sigh, setting the lighter down before helping Joe move a card table and two chairs in front of the fireplace. He'd purchased the table and chairs to use until you could pick out an actual dining table.

"I'll get the pumpkins," he says.

"I'll get everything else." You grab a beach towel, two knives, two large spoons, two pens, and an oversized mixing bowl for the guts.

Joe waits for you to place the towel on top of the table before setting the pumpkins down; he grabs your mugs of cider and sets them down while you place a knife, a spoon, and a pen beside each pumpkin, positioning the large bowl in the center of the table.

"I don't need a pen," Joe states, stripping his flannel shirt off and tossing it on the sofa before dropping into his chair directly across from you.

You take your denim shirt off and hang it on the back of your chair before sitting down. "You don't wanna draw the face before you start carving?"

"I'm just gonna wing it," he grins, taking a hearty swig of cider before tipping his pumpkin onto its side, picking up a knife and plunging it into the bottom, quickly making a circular cut and removing the chunk. "Want me to handle your bottom for you?" he asks, grinning at your loaded expression. "The bottom of your pumpkin, horndog," he chuckles, pulling your pumpkin toward him when you give him a wink and a nod.

Once he opens your pumpkin up and pushes it back in front of you, y'all both grab big metal spoons and start scooping, eventually filling the bowl almost to the brim with gourd goop.

"I'm gonna wash my hands before I start carving the face," Joe mutters once his pumpkin is hollowed out. "Me too." You follow him to the kitchen sink, each giving your hands a quick wash before heading back to the table.

"Time to get down to business," he states, grabbing his knife and tilting his head left and right before starting to cut, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates.

You take a few minutes to draw your jack-o-lantern face before cutting. "I'm gonna give mine a happy face," you state.

"I'm gonna give mine a mean game face," Joe snarls, flashing you a smile when you giggle at him.

Y'all work for the next several minutes without speaking, the sound of the pouring rain and crackling fire the only noises.

You finish the eyes and nose and are just about to start on the mouth when you give Joe a quick glance, your pulse reacting when you find him staring at you. "Are you finished?" you murmur.

"Not yet. Just enjoying the view."

You bite your lip and stare back at him for several heartbeats, a thought flashing in your mind that you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you … or the way he makes you feel.

Eventually a loud clap of thunder makes you gasp and jump, breaking the spell for a second.

"The storm's right on top of us," he murmurs.

"I can feel the electricity in the air," you whisper, taking a few gulps of cider, a sizzle of heat rushing through you at the look on his face.

"I think the electricity is coming from us," he purrs, standing up and holding a hand out to you.

"I need to get a quick shower," you say, placing your hand in his as you stand up.

"No, you don't," he argues, pulling you close, his hands immediately dropping to your butt as he buries his face in your neck, his soft scruff causing a shiver of desire as he kisses his way up to the sensitive spot behind your ear.

"I was gonna wear the naughty lingerie tonight … after I have a shower," you protest weakly, gripping his shoulders as you lean into him, lightheaded from the mixture of spiced rum and arousal.

"Later," he murmurs, dropping to his knees to remove your boots and socks before standing back up.

"But …"

"Are you wet for me?" he interrupts, cupping one big hand over your crotch and teasing you through your leggings.

"Maybe," you whisper, your breath catching in your throat when he slides a hand inside your leggings, his agile fingers quickly slipping into your panties, a sound of satisfaction rumbling low in his throat at how wet you are for him.

"I need you naked. Now," he states, picking you up and setting you on the leather sofa before peeling your t-shirt and leggings off. You take your bra off as he slides your panties down your legs, the look on his face setting off a steady throb deep inside you.

He strips his own t-shirt off and drops to his knees before spreading your thighs; he pulls your ass to the edge of the sofa cushion, his hot tongue immediately teasing your slick folds with long, slow licks. "You taste so good," he groans, his deep voice, thick with lust, caressing you like a physical touch.

You bury a hand in his hair and watch closely as he devours you, his tongue inside you and his scruff tickling your most sensitive flesh causing a delicious tension to build in your core. "Please," you beg, biting your lip hard enough to sting as he captures your gaze while gently circling your clit with his tongue; he continues to tease you with his mouth while sliding his hands up your body to play with your nipples, groaning when you pull his hair and grind against him.

"Harder!" you urge, gasping when he latches onto your clit and gives it a thorough suck. "Just like that," you breathe, "don't stop!" You keep your gaze locked on his as the tension inside you reaches the breaking point, giving his hair another tug as your intense climax hits, your cries of pleasure mingling with the rolling thunder as he continues to pleasure you through the orgasm.

You're still trying to catch your breath when he shoves his jeans and undies down to mid-thigh and nestles his erection against your entrance. "You ready?" he asks, dipping just inside while waiting for the go ahead. "Yeah," you pant, whimpering when he buries his cock inside your still spasming core, the thick intrusion causing you to clamp down hard. "Jesus, you feel too good," he groans, his hips immediately rolling forward in smooth, steady strokes as you wrap your trembling legs around him.

He leans down and captures your lips, gracing you with a primal growl when you suck his tongue into your mouth. "You taste amazing, don't you?" he asks, riding you even harder when you give him a breathless, "yes, sir," before continuing to savor the taste of your arousal on his tongue.

He cups a hand behind your right knee and lifts your leg over his shoulder, the new angle tilting your hips in a way that has him hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You moan his name as he completely fills you up -- over and over -- the exquisite stretch of his thick cock inside you straddling the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Can you come for me again?" he rasps, dropping a hand down to tease your super sensitive clit while pounding into you. "Y … yes," you whine, feeling another climax building as his soft grunts accompany his hard thrusts, his icy-hot gaze locked on yours as he expertly pushes you toward meltdown.

You dig your fingers into his muscular arms and make a sound that's part whimper/part scream as your orgasm rips through you, your gaze still holding his as he manages a few more thrusts before following you over the edge. His beautiful eyes lose focus before sliding closed in ecstasy, his head tilting back as he empties himself into you as your clenching walls milk him dry.

He eventually falls forward and buries his face in your neck; for the next few minutes, the only sounds you hear are the snap and crackle of the fire, the distant thunder, and you and Joe panting hard to catch your breath.

After a little while longer, you flutter your eyes open, your gaze coming to rest on your partially-carved pumpkin staring at you. "My jack-o-lantern is hardcore judging us right now," you giggle.

Joe drops a kiss against your neck before throwing a look over his shoulder. "Yep," he agrees. "She looks totally scandalized." He gives you a wink before slowly pulling out of you, both of you hissing at the delicious friction.

"You wanna finish carving the pumpkins now or you wanna rest?" you ask, stretching out on the oversized sofa as he stands up and strips off the rest of his clothes.

"Let's rest for a bit," he answers, heading to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to clean you up before stretching his tall frame out beside you; he tugs the plush blanket down on top of y'all, pulling you close and making sure you're fully covered before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

A few minutes pass before he speaks up again. "Would it be cheesy to say there's no place I'd rather be than right here with you?"

You snuggle closer to him, a smile gracing your lips as you answer. "Would it be cheesy to admit I was thinking the exact same thing?"

"We're on the same wavelength, as usual," he chuckles.

"It's kind of our thing," you repeat his words from earlier, his familiar scent and the sound of his strong heartbeat lulling you to sleep as your eyes flutter closed.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

[summerscribble]

don't touch yourself ~ artem wing ♡

cw nsfw, 18+ (mdni), fem x artem

summary you decide to tease artem with nude pics of you in the thong :p

word 1.8k

You blush when the notification says that your recent purchase is nearly arriving at your doorstep. 

Last night, somehow you ended up browsing through the internet and making an unplanned purchase of a red lacy thong instead of having a regular weekend movie night with your husband. Because Artem had a sudden last-minute plan change to visit his school friends for an overnight stay.

You couldn't contain your excitement as Artem was returning in the evening today, and you were eager to surprise him.

The delivery arrives at your door and you almost startle yourself.

You eagerly open the package as soon as you bring it back into your bedroom. The small piece of red cloth reflects a similar hue to your flushed face.

Suddenly, a mischievous idea strikes you. Instead of waiting for him to arrive, you decide to try it on and send a picture to tease your husband a bit for leaving you alone on a weekend movie night.

You turn on your bathroom lights and adjust it to your preference. You see yourself in the mirror, the thong perfectly settles on your sides, barely helping to hide your bud. You didn't even bother to wear the lacy bra. The dizziness clouds your brain when you think about Artem's flushed face when he receives these clicked images.

You catch your phone in your hand and with the other one you try to cover your nipples pressing your forearm in front of your tits.

You click a few pictures with a bit of seducing poses with your hips bent, and thighs pressed together. You turn around to capture your asscheeks, sudden thoughts emerge inside your head, you desperately want your husband right now with you.

You hoped to get an assumed or even better reaction from Artem.

After your session of clicking pictures, you wear back your t-shirt and jump on the bed finally ready to send the pictures to your husband.

you: baby where r u?

In just a minute, he replies.

artem: just had lunch now we are returning to the room. what about u?

you: i had lunch as well :) wanted to show u something

artem: show me

Your cheeks heat up and you take a bit while to decide which pictures to send.

artem: sweetheart

Did your husband guess already that you are planning something malicious?

you: sends attachments

It showed that Artem opened the images to view but there was no response for almost a minute.

you: r u still in public??

You suddenly get an incoming call from Artem.

You pick up and your heart beats louder in your eardrums, "Artem?"

"Baby." Artem's sweet voice sounded a bit hoarse and very low, "You can't be torturing me like this."

You giggle hearing him complaining but at the same time, your body is on fire.

Artem interrupts, "I don't know how I'm gonna step out of the room any sooner."

"It took only a few pictures to get you so hard, Mr. Wing?" You tease.

"Babe," He responds, "Are you still wearing it?"

"Artem-" That flushes you all over.

"I wanna see you." Artem softly cries.

"I'm waiting for you, come home." 

"Just an hour and I will be there." He pauses and this time his voice comes a bit rough, "You better don't touch yourself."

You hum back cause you find yourself no longer able to verbally respond at his mercy.

The call gets disconnected and you simply can't wait for him to arrive home. Your cunt aches for him. You were supposed to torture him but you are the one in misery now.

You attempt to keep yourself busy with some chores but end up thinking about when he will arrive. The sound of the door opening reaches your ears. You walk outside the bedroom still wearing your t-shirt which almost hides your thong.

You catch sight of your partner wearing a casual black t-shirt and faded jeans, looking effortlessly perfect as always. His azure eyes meet yours. There was something on his face that you couldn't read well. His ruffled hair falls on his forehead when he paces near you, holding a stare. As soon as he enters your proximity, the heat surrounds and you love the way he smells. 

His hands don't even take a moment when he swoops you near to press him closer to you, "Hey, babe. Missed you."

You hold on his shoulders, "Hey, missed you-" His lips land on yours. "Artem-" His hand caresses your cheek and he hungrily bites on your lower lip.

He lifts your chin to access his tongue inside your mouth. You become a whimpering mess, when he applies a minimal force, you find your back pressed onto the wall. You slightly open your eyes to find him already looking at yours with a desire burning inside them. His knitted eyebrows, heavy breathing, and your rising moans make him deepen the kiss to get sloppier. Just when his hands come to action. He lifts your leg and presses his bulge to your center.

You moan loudly.

"Did you touch yourself?" He grinds, repeating his previous move, gripping strongly on your leg and pressing you onto the wall leaving no space in between you two. His erect cock is so hard underneath his jeans, you feel his middle perfectly fitting against yours.

"No-"

He thrusts roughly.

"Artem-"

His other hand now grabs your ass cheek, and he grumbles, "Baby, I almost touched myself while looking at your pictures, I was so close to losing it," He looks into your eyes before claiming your lips between his, nibbling on them.

He keeps fondling your ass cheeks with his rough hands and besides his covered dick never leaves your center. He pulls slightly away when his finger comes at your lips, "I was gone for one night, and look what a mess you are."

He enters his two digits in your mouth massaging your tongue and you gladly let him do whatever to you. You are no more in your mind. Yes, you are a mess. Your pussy is even dripping and clenching around the thin cloth which is not helping at all.

You suck on his fingers. He pulls them out to only replace them with his lips. This time he lifts you, and you lock your legs around his waist. His hands groping your asscheeks.

The moment you are carried to your bedroom you are thrown on the bed on your back. Artem pulls out his t-shirt, revealing his sexy pecs and torso. You mewl waiting desperately to return to his heated proximal.

He kneels between you, spreading your legs. Starts kissing your lips and moving to your jaw then neck to collar bone, he slowly lifts your t-shirt to expose your tits for him, brushing his fingers on your curves. He takes one of the nipples between his teeth, then traces it with his wet tongue which immediately leads him to suck on your tits hungrily. You moan watching the darkness spreading in his iris.

He switches to the other breast while pinching the previous nipple between his fingers. He breathes sharply and buckle your hips to meet his.

Artem quickly follows up by removing his jeans and briefs. His dick swings out twitching. The tip looks flushed and the leaking precum is now blinding your senses. The veins throb when he gives himself a slow stroke. "Your lonely pussy wanted my cock last night?"

You are utterly shocked to hear a profound dirty talk out of your husband's mouth but you know very well you challenged the demon inside him by sending thirsty images which would have torn down his perfect image.

He connects his throbbing dick to your barely-covered cunt. His stare holds yours when he slides a finger between your folds to hook the thong aside from your entrance so that he could place his cockhead inside you.

He took a brief pause breathing heavily making you more eager to push forward, "Artem-"

He thrusts in one go. You scream his name. He moves quickly to be fully inside your heated wet walls.

"Fuck," He props himself above you, "You took me in so well babe." His azure eyes never leave yours.

He thrusts upwards. You quickly hold onto his shoulders, "Artem-"

He moans moving up his pace, "Sweetheart, I love you so much."

"Artem- Ah," His thrusts grow rough and you feel your walls crumbling and clenching around his girthy cock. Every time your hips meet his thrusts your g spot is rewarded with pleasure.

He starts sucking on your neck, tits, and biting your lips while thrusting deeply inside you.

You feel his hand fondling the breast and from there, it traces down towards the south and halts below your belly to assure the depth he reaches inside you.

He softly grumbles and pulls out his dick completely which leaves a cry from your mouth, "Artem, I wanna cum. Please fuck me."

He flips you on your stomach and lifts your ass in the air. He positions himself behind you. This time he rips off the thong and throws it on the floor and also helps you to remove your t-shirt.

You obediently raise your ass and press your entrance to his hard dick. 

"I'm sorry to leave you alone last night, darling." He kisses your nape.

His hands trap you underneath him when he starts thrusting again, "I can reach more deep inside you in this position." He kisses your hair and then leaves a bite over your shoulders and back. 

The next moment you are screaming louder when Artem starts pounding inside you while his hands tightly hold on your waist. 

"Fuck, you are so hot." He thrusts faster.

You feel your climax peaking, "Artem, I'm gonna cum, go harder."

His balls start slapping against your skin and when you reach a perfect sync you feel yourself coming closer than ever. Your moans get higher and Artem loses himself too, "Yes, Baby, Cum for me." Your mind clashes with your pleasure when he chases your climax, giving you strong waves of pleasure.

A few more thrusts after Artem empties himself inside you, releasing satisfying grunts, and moans and rolling his hips against yours until your cunt takes all of his seeds deep inside you.

Later your voice fades and your eyes tear up feeling one of the best releases ever. Artem falls beside you, still inside you. The heavy breathing mingles together. 

Even a slight movement causes you to shiver. Artem pounds softly from behind you, "I love to hear you calling for me." He leaves no space between your coiled-up bodies.

He kisses you, "Sorry, I ruined the thong."

"Glad it came in pairs." You look over your shoulder, certainly, you also study your waist has a pink shade of fingerprints.

"Ah huh?" He sounds smug, "Wear it again, and this time I will make sure I won't rip it." He slowly moves behind you, "No Promises but." He kisses you again as you both chuckle.

"Love you, Artem."

"Love you more."

#tears of themis #artem wing x reader #artem wing #tot artem #artem smut #artem wing smut #zuo ran #female reader #smut #mdni #sexy content

[donotwishonme]

march 3: card - 546 words - @jegulus-microfic - implied sexual content

Regulus does not like attention very much. This is a well known fact. So when a delivery guy steps out of the elevator with a gigantic bouquet of red roses asking about a Regulus Black, he wishes the ground would swallow him.

Pandora, who sits at the desk across from him, waves her hand in the air to get the guy’s attention and point at him. Regulus sits with his face in his hands, this is embarrassing.

Regulus can feel the guy looming over him and looks up. He shuffles some of his papers to the side. “You can put them there, thank you,” he says meekly.

Regulus just leaves the flowers standing there. Doesn't want to pay them any more attention. Doesn’t want anymore attention on himself. Just wants to go back to focusing on his work. Until Pandora interrupts him, “Aren’t you gonna see who sent them. There is a card attached to them.”

She is gazing at the flowers intently, admiring them. Regulus has to admit, they are quite beautiful. It’s just a bit much. Who would even send this to him? He hasn't done anything to deserve this. He doesn't have anyone to have an anniversary with and his birthday is months away.

“Reg, card,” she repeats, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“It’s not that special. We get gifts all the time. Grateful clients and all that.” It’s not a lie. They maintain a close relationship with a lot of clients. But most of their gifts come in the form of gift cards or invites to dinners, not red roses.

“Yes but these are red roses, must be from someone special.”

“Well if you want to know you can read it to me.” He just wants to put it to rest, but once Pandora has something in her mind she won’t leave it alone. Quickest way to get it over with is to give in.

She picks the card out of the flowers and folds it open. Eyes darting over the card. She starts blushing and snaps the card closed again. “Oh, I think it’s better if you open it yourself.”

She lays the card in front of him and makes her way back to her own desk, cheeks still pink.

He opens the card and is greeted with, well how shall he put it, a picture of James Potter in all of his glory. James Potter, who is supposed to be just a client, is sending him roses and nudes, to his workplace. What a fucking idiot.

Would love to see you again Reg, you beg so pretty for me.

Regulus blushes even brighter than Pandora did. James, of course he remembers James. Left him a very grateful, very satisfied client.

He’d done the design for James’ new penthouse. When handing over the key to him, James had asked for a tour. Which ended in the bedroom with James’ head between his thighs and Regulus begging him to fuck him.

He glances at the card again. There is also a phone number, which he adds to his contacts immediately. Before he sends a message, he puts the card away, safe in his bag, just for his eyes.

Attention, he thinks, isn't that bad as long as it comes from James.

#regulus is an interior designer #james is a very satisfied client ;) #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #jegulus microfic #izzy's pocket-sized fics