#neighbor!reader

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

#cod #thoughts™️ #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #konig #konig x you #konig x reader #nikto x reader #sebastian krueger #krueger x reader #cod nikto #konig cod #neighbor!reader

[pinkcherryblossom18]

Dick Grayson can just be walking and people will stare. He's fucking attractive but he doesn't pay them any mind, there's no point when he already has his mind set on one person.

Neighbor!reader who is just trying to survive college and is constantly craving coffee or some kind of substance to keep her going. But it's when the cute guy from next door Is always stopping by and talking to her, getting her coffee, and having dinner with her, she suddenly is wide awake with thoughts of the man with blue eyes.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #neighbor!reader #the garbage can

[missouki]

𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓶𝓪𝓷

nsfw : save the cow or milk the milkman? Doppelganger or not, you still choose to milk him.

a/n : decided to make a nsfw fanfiction for the milkman, i feel like edging everytime i see a fan art/edit of him.

Blood that had dried up on his clothes that were now on the floor and his milkman hat on top of your head. He groans as he lays his head back, you wrap your hands around his neck as you bounce. You were practically milking the milkman, you let him suck your tits as you make an orgasm and paint your walls white.

His cock was coated in white cream, he stares at your bouncy breast while his hands focuses on rubbing the bulging point in your stomach. Your velvet walls were sore from all the friction, the milkman feels you slowly closing your leg. His veiny hands grab your thighs in an attempt to prevent them from closing, "You will keep up with me and stop when I want to.."

Your nails dig through his back to scratch it as your legs wrapped itself around his waist. Your back makes contact with the cold wall, the milkman gropes your ass cheeks as he lets his cock travel deeper inside you with each thrust. You can feel a flood of cum slipping out of your hole and falling down the floor, his thighs were messy with white cream and your cunt was clenching everytime his dick moves in and out.

You lay flat on the floor with your bare pussy, the milkman bends you over and pulls your body closer to him. He inserts a finger inside your pussy "It's still wet, let's continue~?" He says inserting another finger to feel your slimy walls. You roll your eyes back, if he lets his long veiny fingers travel deeper, he could already reach that g-spot. He pulls it out as he spreads your folds and pushes his cock inside you, this doggy position has you going feral. His dick was hitting it and you could already feel yourself making an orgasm again.

The milkman was surely enjoying himself. Watching you bounce his cock, spreading your legs for him, and your bouncy breast that tempts him. You were already on the verge of crying from pleasure, he holds your legs up as he lets his hip do the job for you. Each thrust has you whining and milking on his cock, your soft pussy was blushing and making squelching sounds everytime he rams it inside fully. The milkman will come back again for delivery tomorrow~

#francis mosses #milkman #milkman x reader #that's not my neighbor #male insert #male x reader #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #tnmn

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water (Pt. I)

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?

pt.II

art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)

warning: 18+ content

“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.

A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.

“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.

“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.

You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.

You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.

“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.

“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.

Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.

“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.

You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.

“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.

“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.

“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.

His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.

Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.

“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button

“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.

“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.

“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.

“hm” You nod and press the button.

“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.

You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.

The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.

You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.

About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.

Staring at you.

His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.

“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.

“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.

“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”

He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.

His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.

“…what. the. fuck.”

#milkman #milkman x reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #fem dom reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman smut #milk the man

[yawnderu]

Currently thinking about neighbor!Simon with a sweet thing who keeps shamelessly flirting with him.

Ghost, the soldier who has been basing his life in self-control and discipline, knocked down a peg or two by his younger neighbor. He doesn't even respond to the flirting, simply replying with a grunt or a "thanks" so quiet you can barely even hear it before he disappears into his house.

Neighbor!Simon, who initially moved to your quiet neighborhood for some peace and quiet— and he gets just that, with one glaring exception.

Neighbor!Simon, who is forced to listen to your moans and whines as you bounce up and down a dildo, filthy nonsense escaping your lips whenever it hits a sensitive spot.

Neighbor!Simon, who seemed amused about it at first and ignored it, but after a few times started feeling his jeans tighten up.

Neighbor!Simon, who cups his throbbing boner over his jeans, trying his best to stop himself from jerking off, yet your whiny moans are taking away any semblance of self-respect he has.

Neighbor!Simon, who timed his strokes with the sounds of your squelching cunt, imagining it's him going in and out of you.

Neighbor!Simon, who pathetically came all over his stomach when you moaned out his name, filthy and overly loud words leaving your lips because you know he can hear you.

Neighbor!Simon, who since then was less of a Ghost in his own neighborhood, actually trying to reply to your attempts at making conversation with him.

Neighbor!Simon, who told you one of his awful dad jokes just to hear the loudest sigh ever, the corners of his lips threatening to tug up at your reaction.

Neighbor!Simon, who eventually started tagging along for anything you did— Grocery shopping? Paying bills? Going to the park? Shopping? He's coming with you, claiming there's lots of creeps around.

Neighbor!Simon, who accepted your offers for dinner, looking at you moving around the kitchen and helping you, imagining you're his pretty little wife.

Neighbor!Simon, who got enough courage to kiss you after being 100% sure you were interested in him.

Neighbor!Simon, who couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face when during one of your make out sessions, you took him to your bedroom.

Neighbor!Simon, who was a groaning mess underneath you as you rode him, calloused hands holding onto your hips with a bruising grip.

'' 'S what you wanted all along, love?'' He manages to grunt out between his deep groans and moans, hypnotized by the way your tits bounce while your tight cunt takes all of him.

''Since I first saw you.'' You reply with honesty, leg muscles tired from riding him, but his thick cock feels way too good to even think about stopping.

''Good girl.'' He praises, eyes closing as his hips start to thrust up, meeting you halfway while you bounce on his cock, angling up your ass so he hits a more sensitive spot that has you moaning on top of him, his grip on your hips going to your ass while he moves your smaller body up and down his cock, thrusts getting rougher while you finally collapse on top of him.

''Cum inside.'' His hips falter for a moment as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, your hushed confirmation of being on birth control enough to keep him going even harder, driving himself into your cunt at an unlawful pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusted deeply, the room filled with the smell of sex, walls bouncing with the sounds of your combined desperate moans as he shoved himself as deep as he could, filling your womb with his thick, fertile cum. It doesn't matter if you're on birth control, his seed is much stronger.

Husband!Simon, who got to come home from deployment to his missus, stomach swollen with his baby.

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #ghost #ghost smut #mw2 smut #breeding k1nk #breeding kink go brrrr #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #neighbor!ghost #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost

[ghouljams]

The Ghost distribution system... He really is like a stray cat, or a bear that learns minivans have food in them, he just keeps coming back no matter how many times you try to send him on his way. It doesn't matter how it happens but any scrap of kindness and he just determines he's going to attach himself to you.

Maybe he offers you a hand moving your couch when he passes your place and hears you swearing. You offer him dinner and Ghost has never been the sort to turn down a free meal, so he sticks around. It's weird that he doesn't even pretend to refuse, just takes you up on it immediately and even offers to help cook. You send him home and he's... there again the next day, waiting on your doorstep with a box of pasta asking if you could do anything with it. He's going to come back, he's going to keep coming back.

Maybe it's from meeting you at a bar. He's the biggest guy you can grab when your ex walks in, and somehow he seems approachable despite... well, everything about him. Fake boyfriend for a few hours at the bar is one thing, having him show up the next day to fix your sink because you mentioned offhandedly that it was leaking the night before is another. Having him sit in your kitchen and peal an orange for you because you said you were hungry is really driving home that this guy isn't leaving.

Hell maybe it's just a one night stand that never seems to end. You wake up and Ghost has already made breakfast. The two of you sit at your little table and eat quietly, Ghost scrolling his phone while you eye him warily, trying to figure out his game. He asks what you want to do today and somehow you can't find the right way to ask when he's planning on going home. He just sort of moves in, you realize he's printed a key for himself while you're grabbing groceries. It's nice he offers to pay, but you don't know when having him around became your normal.

Ghost sees you, he wants you, you're his. He's not leaving, he'll come back. He knows that this house has food and warmth, he knows that families forget to tie their trash up off the ground. He's a man of instinct, and you are going to be his perfect match.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #tbh this is how he ends up with love lol #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #gn!reader #I know there's a million neighbor!Simon fics but goddamn #I love that shit so much #the man just decides you're his because you share a wall #gets me every time #the ghost distribution system

[lazi4ss]

That's Not My Milkman

masterlist

Warning: slight gore but not that detailed, doppleganger Francis

Gender neutral reader

(NOT MY ART, I FORGOT WHOS TIKTOK THIS IS FROM BUT CREDITS TO YOU!)

"So... Is everything in check?"

A tired voice mumbled out as your eyes trailed up from the ID and entry request in your hands to the source of the sound. Tired hazel eyes stared back at you as Francis rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt bad, here you were double and triple-checking everything while the exhausted and probably underpaid milkman was there standing and waiting to be let in. But it's for everyone's safety so don't feel too bad. You gave a small smile as you handed back his paperworks. Everything seems to check out and you were going to let him in but... what's that on his uniform sleeve?

You squinted your eyes as you scanned the cuff of his right sleeve. His gaze travelled to where you were looking and with a shrug of his shoulders he lifted his hand to give you a clear view. And it is in fact blood, and by the looks of it, quite fresh too. How come you didn't notice it before?

You raised an eyebrow, one hand slowly inching closer to the danger button as you tried to be subtle and casual about it. Because what the heck? He was confident enough to show you something so suspicious without batting an eye.

"Sooo... Uhm. Anything you want to share?"

You casually asked, yet nervousness was laced in your tone. He sighed, keeping his composed and nonchalant act as put his hand down, burying it in his pocket as he dragged his free hand on his face. If he's a doppelganger then he's really going the extra mile to act or seem believable.

"Mmm. I know you're on edge."

He mumbled, gaze traveling from your hand that was ready to press the danger button to your face. Staring a little too long as he examined your features. You got a very pretty face yet it was filled with mistrust. Shame. Catching himself, he quietly scoffed under his breath. Good job Francis, already had the doorperson suspicious of you.

"But this is not what it looks like. I injured my hand earlier with a broken glass, blood must've gotten on my uniform accidentally."

He finished, not breaking the staring contest you two have started. You don't quite seem to believe that story, but it was plausible. There was a tense silence for a while before you broke it.

"Show me your wound."

You requested and again, another tense silence. He didn't look like he was going to comply. Just you and him staring down at each other. No one backing down and tearing their eyes away.

"... Fuck."

He quietly hissed and that was enough confirmation for you. You pressed the button immediately, grabbing the phone as you dialed the D.D.D. A familiar voice on the other end confirms and tells you that agents are on their way.

You sighed in relief, although that didn't last long as you heard banging on the glass pane separating you and the doppelganger. Thank God those were strong enough to withhold the assaults. You should've been shaking in your seat right now, and you were albeit not so intense, but it was the first time you came across the quiet and aloof milkman's doppel.

Hell, it was the first time you even saw Francis up front, not just out of the picture in the folder provided for your job. Out of curiosity, you raised the metal shutters to take a peek at it. And what greeted you was a snarling, red-eyed Francis. His features twisted in rage as he banged on the glass repeatedly.

"Let me in, Y/n!"

He growled, to which you shut the metal blinds again on his face in response as you heard the agents barge in. You thought it would be like last time, after a while they would let you know that the cleanup was successful and that they would be on their way back. Easy peasy, right? Oh how wrong you were. Turns out, this one was putting up quite a fight.

You could hear shouting, a lot of screaming, and the sound of something sharp slashing at flesh. Wet sounds of people gurgling in what you presumed to be their own blood... That was disturbing. You were almost too scared to pull up the shutters to see what was going on. But suddenly the noises stopped. Did they catch him? Was it finally over?

With shaking hands, you pressed the danger button off. The blinds slowly ascended and holy shit, the sight was like something out of a nightmare. It was straight up a blood bath. The agents' bodies were piled on the right side. Some missing their heads, missing their upper or lower half, and others' stomachs were ripped out and just generally shredded and torn. But that wasn't what you saw first.

It was Francis, or well, his doppelganger, with blood splattered on his clothes and a little getting on his cheek. His forearm was resting on the glass as he leaned. His mouth opened and formed a smirk as he panted, breathing heavily while glaring at you. His left hand fiddled with the blood-drenched tie on his neck.

If he wasn't a murderous doppelganger, you would've swooned. But alas, you can't have nice things in life. You blinked at him before pressing the button again,

"Wait- damn it!"

He called out but the windows were closed off again as you dialed the number quickly. Yet again, the same old thing was said, another batch of agents were dispatched. You waited, fidgeting in your seat as you heard him call out to you.

"Come on... I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to frighten you. Can you open the door?"

He tried to coax you with that voice... That smooth and deep voice that sounded so tired, on the verge of begging you... Wait what-

You shook your head, patting your cheeks lightly because what the hell was that? Such intrusive thoughts are not welcome while your life's in danger!

More screaming and shouting was heard as the agents arrived and you could tell they were much more prepared than the last batch. Gunshots can be heard but another animalistic growl pulled you out of your thoughts. Everything went silent again. You stay rooted on your spot as the only thing that can be heard in the air is your quivering gasps and heavy breathing on the other side of the glass panel.

Is he still there? You thought as you turned off the danger button again. More bodies were piled up on the left corner and surprise surprise, he was still alive, albeit in a rougher shape than previously. He wasn't wearing his milkman hat anymore, letting his brown messy hair show. His uniform was missing three buttons at the top, slightly showing his chest, bowtie was nowhere to be found.

He was still drenched in blood but what stunned you was what he was doing. His form raised and dropped as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, tired hazel eyes staring back at you as his eyebrows scrunched up. His hands pressed together in a pleading manner. Is he actually begging?

"Y/n, let me in... Please?"

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

[eternityofend]

SAVE THE COW

MILK THE MILKMAN.

Pairing: F!Reader x Francis Mosses. (18+)

[ TW ] MINORS DNI 18+

NSFW, Overstimulation, Whimpering, Slight praise kink, Unprotected sex, Riding, Submissive Francis, Dominant Reader, Porn with no Plot, Blowjob, Biting, Kissing/Making out, Aftercare.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut, I apologize if it isn't that good.

"Mmm..."

You coo, caressing Francis's face as you kissed him on the nose. How adorable he was for a man who didn't care much for others, merely focusing on his work instead of interacting with others.

You felt special, considering you were the only one he opened up to, the only one he'd talk to without shying away.

But it was only right.

You let out a ghost of a smile as you continue caressing Francis's cheeks with your hands, kissing his neck lightly as you felt him tremble by your touch. Every touch of your lips on his skin sent him vocally expressing just how truly sensitive he was, gripping onto the fabric of your clothes as Francis threw his head back, face redder than scarlet milk.

Francis breathes out heavily, his hand going behind your head to grip onto your hair as you continue to litter kisses on his neck without end.

"[Name]-"

Poor Francis, barely even able to speak out more than one word before suddenly releasing a high pitched moan, gripping tighter on your hair as he was caught by surprise by the bite you left on his neck.

Francis's entire body trembles, but he doesn't tell you to stop.

You lick your lips, leaning your head up as you took Francis's chin in your hand and made him face towards you.

He looks like a puppy because of his teary expression and red cheeks. You sigh, how adorable can this man get?

You take his lips into yours, slipping your arm behind his waist as you hum in content, kissing him with vigorous passion that you knew would make him struggle to get air after.

Francis whines, trying to kiss you back with the same passion you were giving him but the best he could do was open his mouth and let you take control, leaning back on the bed he was on.

"Francis.." You mutter his name, breaking the kiss as he panted, his lungs fighting to get air after making out with you for a minute straight.

Your fingers cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, staring at you in the eyes while panting quietly. You smile, pushing him on the chest, forcing him to lay down on the bed as you crawl on top of him.

"I'll take good care of you." You whisper into his ear, your hand already unbuckling his belt and zipping down his pants.

"[Name].. please-" Francis mutters something with a rasp tone in his voice, gazing at you with such doe eyes that activates a bottomless pit of hunger, of lust, in you.

You pull down the last barrier that covered his dick, your eyes swirling in lust as it leaked pre-cum, the tip flushing a light flustered pink, sensitive to your touch.

"Relax, I'll make you feel good tonight, okay?" You whisper in a gentle tone, already rubbing his dick up and down with your hand, eager to make him orgasm within 5 minutes.

You wanted to break him, hear him scream out your name when he cums.

He was simply just so adorable.

Your pace increases, and you feel the slightest twitch of Francis's dick in your hand as he suddenly whimpers, moaning out words for you to slow down.

"Wait- Wait- Mmmm.. [Name] please- go slow!-" Francis chokes on his words as you did the complete opposite of what he wanted, throwing his head back, his hips thrusted up to match your pace. His eyes rolling back, as the only thing that came out of his mouth were broken moans.

"Haa.. Ha-" Francis grips onto the sheets, letting out a chorus of "Ah, Ah, Haa~" completely letting you know he felt good.

You exhaled, trying to control yourself as you felt yourself get even more aroused just by listening to how lewd his sounds were.

"Shit, fuck.. you drive me crazy." You groan, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, biting on his skin; pumping even faster.

Faster.

More.

You needed to hear more of him.

"Fuck- Cum for me, Francis." You utter, feeling his dick twitch and convulse at your words. Just a second after, you immediately felt warm and sticky cum dropping on your hand as Francis let out a loud moan of your name.

Your eyes blurred with arousal, wanting to break him more.

"[Name].." Francis whispers out, but you shush him before he could say anything else.

You smile, getting on top of him as you pull down your pants. Rubbing your pussy on the tip of his dick as you used his cum to lubricate your insides.

Francis just stares at you, panting. His hand on your back, but he was mostly curious on what you were doing.

"I can help you.. if you wan-" Francis's eyes widen, letting out a sudden moan that cut off his sentence as he felt his dick enter your warm and wet pussy. He gripped hard on your hips, whining in pleasure as he felt your walls tighten even more around his cock.

Francis wasn't even fully in yet but he already felt like cumming again.

"[Name]. [Name]. [Name]. Fuck- fuck.. you feel so good, sugar.." Francis whines, thrusting his whole length inside of you. Moaning in the process of doing so, almost cumming when he felt your pussy clench so hard on his dick.

You pant, wrapping your hands around Francis's neck. Letting yourself rest for a while before raising your hips and dropping down on his dick.

"I'm gonna milk you dry.. Mr. Milkman."

Francis groans at the name, his dick twitching as he imagined you taking every single drop of his seed, he imagined filling you up to the brim.

You ride on Francis's dick at a fast pace, wet slapping echoing throughout the room as skin met skin.

Francis moans, changing his hold to grip onto your ass, his head burying into your neck while you bounced on his cock.

"Sugar.. you're taking me so well." Francis mutters softly, completely in bliss by how good your pussy felt.

You moan, your pussy clenching at his words. Despite him being the bottom this time, he still had a way of making you feel like you were the one being submissive.

A frustrating feeling grows in your stomach, wanting to show Francis that you were supposed to be the dominant one.

You clenched tighter on his dick, increasing your pace as you made sure he completely felt every inch of his dick get swallowed by your pussy.

Francis mutters something under his breath, completely lost in pleasure as he moaned in ecstasy, cumming in you for the second time.

You pant, continuing to ride Francis even if he already orgasmed, you wanted to show him that you were more than capable enough of giving both you and him pleasure.

"Sugar, wait- agh- haa~ slow down.." Francis tapped on your hip, grunting and moaning as he felt your tightness.

You moaned, leaning backwards as you rode Francis as if he was a mechanical bull for you to conquer.

Just a few seconds after, you feel Francis cum another time, whining and whimpering, begging you to stop.

"A little more.." You say, panting. Ignoring the feeling building up in your stomach as you tried to at least make Francis reach another orgasm before you finish.

"Sugar- God, if you don't stop- Ngh~" Francis's voice crumbles, his tone deep but filled with cracks as it was raspy and tired.

"More.."

You feel yourself almost cumming, and you moan. Throwing your head into Francis's neck as you slammed yourself down on him and bit down on his neck.

Francis pulls on your hair, gasping in surprise as he felt your body shake above him, his cock does the same, twitching and pulsing because of how intense you were clenching down on him.

"You're going to kill me one day, Sugar." Francis mumbles, running his hands through your hair as he grabbed a strand and kissed it.

You whine, still not getting off his cock, your body too tired to even move.

"I just missed you.. you've been gone for so long because of work, and you look like you haven't even gotten enough sleep." You complain, caressing his face as you leaned on his shoulder.

The tips of Francis's lips turn upwards, a soft yet baffled chuckle escaping from his mouth.

"Mmmm.. I didn't realize you missed me that much, you should've told me, Sugar.. I would've come home immediately." Francis places a kiss on your forehead, lifting you off his cock as cum dripped from your pussy to his thighs.

Francis puts two fingers inside your pussy, scooping a load of your cum before putting it in his mouth.

A satisfied expression appears on his face as he swallows, pecking you on the lips before saying something that makes you mumble in embarrassment.

"Much better than milk." Francis laughs out, kissing you on the lips with complete gentleness.

"Now let's get you cleaned up.."

You hum, gripping onto him tightly as he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom.

Let's just say, you both did much more than just clean yourselves up in the bathroom.

#Francis #francis mosses #smut #female reader #x reader #dom reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman #milkman x reader #francis mosses x reader #francis x reader

[2kiran]

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

#진 deals. #.🕸️ ݁ ˖ corrupted.khan 𖦹 #— azrael.worksᵎᵎ #that’s not my neighbor #that's not my neighbor #not my neighbor #francis mosses #the milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman that's not my neighbor #dom!reader #top!reader #dom reader #top reader #dom male reader #dom gn reader #top amab reader #top male reader #top gn reader #amab!reader #amab reader #male!reader #male reader #x amab reader #x male reader #gn!reader #gn reader #x gn reader

[ncroissant]

that's not my neighbour:

francis mosses

drabbles:

sub! francis mosses (written by anon)

dom! doppelgänger francis mosses x sub! francis mosses

oneshots:

sub! francis mosses x gn! reader

francis mosses x reader

switch! doppelgänger francis mosses x dom! gn! reader x sub! francis mosses

sub! doppelgänger francis mosses x d.d.d! gn! reader

sub! husband! francis mosses x dom! doppelgänger! gn! reader / pt. 1, pt. 2

sub! francis mosses x gn! reader (francis in cow lingerie...)

switch! francis mosses x fem! reader

sub! francis mosses x gn! doppelgänger! reader

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #milkman #that's not my neighbor #x reader #tnmn #tn #tnmn milkman #ncre #ncrescent

[rodolfoparras]

Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)

Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader

Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow

Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.

Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.

Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.

Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.

“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.

His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.

“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.

Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.

So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”

A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”

And you’re so so close yet so far away.

He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“

“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.

“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.

There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”

“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.

With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.

Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.

“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”

This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.

It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.

Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”

By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack

“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.

Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.

“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.

It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.

“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.

“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.

Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.

“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”

#that’s not my neighbor #that’s not my neighbor milkman #that’s not my neighbor milkman x reader #that’s not my neighbor milkman x male reader #francis mosses #Francis mosses x reader #Francis mosses x male reader #milkman x reader #milkman x male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #top male reader #bottom male character #x reader #male reader #x male reader

[wwwbestgoredotcom]

Francis Mosses NSFW A-Z ♡♡

I love him <33

Reader is gn but has female anatomy.

A-ftercare (What're they like after sex)♡

Very very tired. Everything he says afterwards is either slurred or murmured. Very cuddly tho. Will not let you go. Very sappy afterwards too; telling you he loves you and how pretty and perfect you were/are.

Takes him a second to do it but eventually gets up to get you some water while you go to the bathroom (always pee after sex!).

B-ody part (favorite body part on you & him)♡

On you, he loves your hands and lips. He holds your hand a lot during sex even if hes absolutely destroying you. And he loves your lips because he just likes kisses (and how they look wrapped around his dick). Between tits or ass tho, I think he'd prefer boobs (not pun intended). Even if their small, he looves them.

On him, he'd say his hands are his favorite. He likes the way the have so much effect on you. Like when he fingers you or grabs onto your hips or thighs or when he grabs your hand during sex.

C-um (anything to do w cum basically)♡

I think he'd prefer to cum on your stomach or ass. Though I do think he'd cum inside every once in a while. When you suck him off, he let's you take control of his dick tbh. If you want him to cum all over your face, then he will. If you want it in your mouth, then he will. If you want it on your boobs, he will. He just wants to please you fr.

D-irty secret ♡

I feel like he'd have plenty of them. A main one tho is that he's stolen one of your panties and jerked off with them before. He felt guilty afterwards so that was the only time he did that. The others are small enough for him to forget about it

E-xperience (his past experiences)

♡

I feel like he had NO BITCHES before you came (tee hee) along. He was a quiet kid and just focused on himself, maybe had a couple gfs and intimate moments but you're probably the first "real deal" to come into his life in terms of love.

F-avorite position ♡

He'd like the classics. Like missionary, cowgirl, doggie, etc etc. He'd probably like missionary and cowgirl most. Missionary because of the intimacy. Cowgirl bc sometimes he wants some but he's tired (and boobs).

G-oofy (how serious/unserious are they during sex)♡

He's pretty in the middle. Sometimes he likes to slowly fuck you while you two have a normal conversations so sometimes there's jokes thrown in there. But if it's rougher/faster, he's more serious.

H-air (what kind of hair they got down there)♡

I think he trims it. Keeps it tame. He doesn't shave it clean tho, unless you tell him to, then he might. For the rest of his body, he does have some hair but not a lot.

I-ntimacy ♡

Oh this boy is INTIMATE. The kind of mf that looks at sex like "love-making" instead of just "fuck". Loves praising and listening to what you say. You say harder and he goes harder, you say slower and he goes slower, etc etc. Most of the sex you two have will most likely be when he's tired/half awake so all the praise and such are slurred in such a beautiful way yk.

J-ack off (how often does he jack off)♡

Other than what I said in the dirty secret section, he doesn't really do it anymore. Why imagine you when he has you right there?

K-inks ♡

Praise - he likes receiving and giving praise. He likes talking you through it, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you.

Marking - he'd like to leave hickeys on you, not for a way to "claim" you, but just because he wants to and he likes your reaction to it when I sucks on your sweet spots.

Overstimulation - he likes to BE overstimulated. Sometimes he wants to keep going but his body doesn't or he's too tired so he just begs you to just ride him til he cries or passes out.

Nipple play - he likes to pinch and massage your boobs a lot. Even if you're not having sex, his hand lives on your boob. Most of your foreplay is him sucking and nibbling on your nipple, pinching your other one while he fingers you.

L-ocation (their favorite locations to do it)♡

I feel like he'd only want to do it at home. He doesn't like public stuff. At home tho, he'd do it anywhere; on the dinner table, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, anywhere. He could do it in the car tho. Maybe if he gets too worked up after a date and your apartment is too far away.

M-otivation (what turns him on)♡

Tbh. Everything. Skin tight shirts, your sleepwear (no matter what it is), etc. He likes when you take care of him too, just loving him turns him on.

N-o (some turn offs)♡

I'm so sorry yall but I think he'd say no to bdsm. Like maybe SOME parts of it he can do but like hard-core bdsm is a no.

He wouldn't want to actually hurt you in any way. Spanking is ok if it's not full force but like actually causing you pain is a no.

And he wouldn't like shit with pee, poop, and vomit. Shits nasty.

O-ral ♡

Oh bro. He EATS. Man can eat you out for hourss if you let him. He was a little shit at eating pussy at first but with more practice, he gets better and better. Like I'm talking about EATING pussy. There's no kitten licking with him, he is in. There.

And he loves when you suck him off. He talks while you do but they're all murmurs so no one knows what he's saying. He fucks your face gently (unless you tell him you want it rough) everytime. Mutters praises all throughout it and let's out of raspy moan when he cums.

P-ace ♡

Unless he's dead tired, he goes at whatever pace you want. When he's dead tired he wants to go slow and sensual. But if he had energy, he'll go at whatever pace you want him to go at. He starts off slow but if you tell him to go harder and harder he will beat that pussy numb.

Q-uickie (opinions on quickies)♡

I think he'd want to take his time with you so quickies are eh to him. If you seriously cannot wait but you can't leave wherever you are for too long, he'll take you somewhere private to eat you out till you're satisfied (or suck him off until he's satisfied).

He will leave an event for the day to have sex with you tho. If it gets that bad.

R-isk♡

To keep it short, he'd be down for experimenting as long as it's not in his "no" list.

S-tamina ♡

Again, depends on you. If you wanna ride him till the sun comes up, he'll thug it out for you. He likes overstimulation anyway. But tbh he rlly only goes for 2 rounds until you have to take over.

T-toys (toys they own)♡

I don't think he has any toys for himself. And he wouldn't really care if you had your own toys. He's fucked you with your toys before; like a vibrator up to your clit while he fucks you or a dildo in you while he sucks on your clit.

U-nfair (do they tease? And how often)♡

He doesn't really edge or tease you, but when he does, it's on accident. Sometimes he pulls out to cum on your stomach and accidently edges you. He doesn't mind when you do it to him. Feels good.

V-olume (how loud are they during sex)♡

Loud asf. Like I said, he talks during it, like murmuring and slurring his words. He's a moaner and whimperer too. Occasionally groaning but not really.

He LOVES when you're loud tho. He encourages it actually. Turns him on more.

W-ild card ♡

To add onto "volume", he talks dirty so much, even if it's under his breath. Like omfg the filth that comes out of his mouth is so unexpected.

Also, the amount of times you two were getting rough with it and he got that phone call (ykwim), he doesn't stop. He slows down a bit but just continues while you struggle to not blow you're cover.

X-ray (what's in those pants)♡

He's pretty average. Long, kinda thin, a vein on the top of his shaft from the base to the middle of it. He's about 6-7 inches, and he knows how to use it. Tbh I can't decide whether he's circumcised or not so you can personally decide that.

Y-earning (how high/low is his sex drive)♡

Surprisingly high. He's down to fuck whenever. Unless he's literally about to knock out cold. But if he's awake then so is his dick. He barley asks for sex tho, he wants YOU to initiate it. He just gives hints.

Z-zz (how fast he goes to sleep)♡

Like I said before, he's literally so tired afterwards. Once he makes sure you're okay and comfy, he snuggles close to you and sleeps.

I love him your honor.

#fanfics #oneshot #x reader #female reader #gn reader #i love him so much omg #smut #fluff #francis mosses #Francis mosses x reader #not my neighbor #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader

[d-a-n-n-y-y]

Seen some of these types of francis fanarts where he killed those D.D.D guys so i thought i make one myself🔥/hj

(edit: original😭)

#Also invincible is peak #btw #Season 2 was insane literally?? #Anyways!! #Back at it again with the francis art because im obsessed with him #francis mosses #thats not my neighbor #tnmn #milkman #francis mosses x reader #my art #meme #doppelganger francis mosses #fake blood #tw blood

[eilidh-eternal]

“Single mom x Johnny” this, “single mom x Simon” that.

I want single dad Johnny/Simon and the single reader next door who is helplessly in love with them and their kid.

18+ MDNI

You never wanted kids. You’re convinced you would turn out to be just like your parents. That’s probably why you don’t have a ring on your finger or any sort of boyfriend or partner to speak of.

You never wanted kids.

Until Johnny goddamn MacTavish.

You’re in love with the man who always walks his little girl to school every morning, crooked pigtails flouncing with each too-big step she takes to keep stride with his long legs.

Madly in love with the way he smiles down at the tiny girl, even tinier hand held firmly in his as she dodges cracks in the pavement, and the shriek of her laughter when he lifts her by the arm, swinging her through the air to the next chunk of concrete.

Hopelessly in love with the broad shoulders he hoists her up on, little legs swinging with arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her chin resting on top of his head, blowing stray hairs of an overgrown mohawk out of her face.

Dangerously in love with the way he lets her cling to his front when it rains, like a little koala wrapped around this tree of a man who holds an umbrella in one hand and has a firm hold on her with the other.

Happy. He looks so happy with her. Like she’s the sun he orbits; the star that lights up his world.

You’re just a comet who occasionally passes them by.

——

Johnny never thought he would be doing this alone.

He’s so far out of his depth. Never even had the chance to dip his toe in the water before he was shoved into the churning ocean.

He still remembers every life-altering detail of that day. The phone call after the 16 hour flight back to base. The frantic drive to the hospital. The impossibly tiny, wailing little girl, all alone in the social workers office.

She’s all he has left of her. Of them.

His best friend. His partner in crime, for more years than he can remember. The person who understood better than anyone who he is, saw him through his darkest moments, and loved him with her whole heart.

Gone.

But he smiles for her. Because of her. Isobel is the light in the abysmal darkness that he’s drowning in. The buoy he clings to when he can no longer hold his head above the surface. She’s everything. His past, his present, and his future. And she’s sitting at the table refusing to eat her dinner.

“’s not right.” Her little nose scrunches, turns up at the meal, and she pushes the bright green plastic away, matching miniature fork sent skittering across the table by the force of it

Johnny lowers his own fork and swallows his frustration with a sigh. “‘s yer favorite. Wha’s wrong with it? ”

Her brows knit together as she studies the tray, little creases forming between them and she slumps in her booster seat. “Mommy didn’t make it.”

No. She didn’t.

Johnny was never the cook in the family. That was all her. She’d chased him out of the kitchen after he’d burnt one of her expensive pans and he was thus forth relegated to chopping, and occasionally peeling, duties.

“I know.” His chair scrapes against the floor when he pushes back from the table, moving to crouch down where she sits beside him so that he’s at eye level with her, and he pulls the fork and tray back towards her. “But mommy wouldnae want ye to go to bed hungry, aye?”

“I wan’ somethin’ else.” He watches her little bottom lip jut out, brows still pinched and face twisting into a stubborn pout.

“Wha’d’ye want?”

“Quesadilla.” She drags out the ‘ee’ sound, emphasizing her clumsy command of the foreign language in her already thick Scot’s accent.

He enjoys Mexican food. Loved the tacos Alejandro and Rudy shared with him and his team during his time in Mexico. She’d learned how to make them for his birthday.

Nowhere in Glasgow made anything like it. Not then, and not now.

“I cannae make a quesadilla, leannan.” Her little lip wobbles, eyes turn glassy, tears already welling up in the corners and threatening to spill down chubby cheeks. She sniffles, drags the backs of her hands across her eyes, and Johnny feels what’s left of his heart splinter, another little piece of it withering away to nothing with each fat tear that rolls down and collects at her chin. He unbuckles her from the booster and gathers her into his arms as he stands up, taking her with him to sit in his own chair at the table.

Her little shoulders shake, hiccuping with each muffled sob against his shoulder and tiny fingers fist the material of his shirt. “Miss ‘er,” she warbles, and his arms tighten around her small frame.

“Ah know, leannan.” More hiccups. More tears that seep through his shirt and brand his skin.

You should be here. You’re supposed to be here. With her. With him. With them.

“How ‘bout we go down to the shops? Ye can pick whatever ye want for dinner. Dinnae think they’ll have quesadillas, but I’m sure we can find somethin’ ye like.” She lifts her head from his shoulder, tips it back to peer up at him with bleary eyes and sniffles. Wipes her hand across her eyes again.

“Cheesy noodles?” It’s thin and reedy, poor little throat still tight and full of grief that he knows feels impossible to speak around.

“Aye, we can get cheesy noodles.” He brushes an errant strand of hair away from her face, tucking the unruly curl behind an ear where it probably won’t stay. Just like her mum’s. So much like her mum. She considers him, his offer, and toys with his shirt.

“And sticky pudding?”

“Whatever ye want, leannan.” She really shouldn’t have something so sugary right before bed but he doesn’t have it in him to deny her. Is just glad the tears have stopped. That she’s willing to eat, even if he has to bribe her with junk food and sweets. He sends her to put her shoes on while he cleans up in the kitchen and grabs his own shoes and keys.

——

He’s there.

He’s standing in the pasta aisle with his little girl in the buggy, smiling at the way she makes grabby hands at the dismal selection of boxed macaroni, and he pulls one down from the shelf to hand to her. She inspects it, turning it this way and that way, pointing to something on the packaging and saying something that makes him laugh.

You’re frozen in place, jar of pasta sauce halfway to the basket in your other hand, and you can’t move because the sound of his laughter causes something in your brain to misfire. Causes the electrical signals between neurons and synapses to jumble together and sets your nerves alight. You think you might really be frozen, body unwilling to move an inch away from where you stand now, by your beautiful neighbor in the middle of a goddamned Tesco, until a little voice is addressing you.

“Hi miss neighbor!” Johnny’s head whips around and when his gaze lands on you it feels like your stomach’s turned to lead. “We’re havin’ cheesy noodles f’r dinner!” She holds up the box in her hand and kicks her feet excitedly.

You’re currently kicking yourself for making what you’re sure is an expression closely resembling that of a fish out of water. Mouth agape, brows raised and eyes slightly widened in surprise. When your mouth finally remembers how to move you smile at the little girl waving her box of noodles and powdered cheese in the air. “Hello, Isobel. That sounds like a lovely dinner.”

His brows knit together, one of them quirked at a curious angle. “And how d’ the two of ye know each other?”

Isobel’s foot connects with his thigh and his head jerks back around. “She’s our neighbor. She gave me the tablet,” she whispers a little too loud, cupping a small hand in front of her mouth. He turns back to you with the same jaunty brows and a quirk to his lips.

“So ye’re the one responsible for the wee heathens late night sugar-induced marathon.”

“M-marathon?”

“Aye, she was bouncin’ round the house all night, the little devil.” He ruffles her hair and she swats at his hand.

“I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…” You don’t really know what you’d been thinking when you’d given her the Tupperware full of sugary confections to take home after she’d spent the morning helping you root around in the flowerbeds in front of your home. She’d been watching out the window for hours until she was suddenly right next to you, asking what you were digging for.

“‘s alright. Ye’ll just have to make up f’r it.”

It’s your turn to pinch your brows and tilt your head in confusion. “Make up for it?”

His lips part in a full, genuine smile, like the ones he gives Isobel, and your leaden stomach suddenly feels like it’s lodged in your chest, full of butterflies and other fluttering things you don’t dare to name.

“Oh aye. Reckon ye owe us a dinner since ye’ve skipped right to dessert.”

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

#john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #cod #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod au #call of duty au #neighbors au #cod mwii #cod mw #cod mwiii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #call of duty mw19 #call of duty soap #call of duty fanfic #call of duty mwii #can of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water Pt. II

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: the aftermath of letting him in

pt.I

(art credits: @yunonoaii)

warnings: 18+ content

“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.

“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.

Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.

However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.

“how about this, sweetheart we-“

“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.

“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.

“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.

BZZT!

He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.

“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.

He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.

“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.

“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.

“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.

“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.

Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.

“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.

You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.

His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…

You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.

He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”

“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.

You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.

You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.

You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.

“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”

“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.

This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.

Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.

At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.

You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.

But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.

“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.

“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.

“go ahead”

“hold on to something right”

“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.

Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.

His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.

His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.

“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.

“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.

The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.

As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.

“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.

You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.

“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.

“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.

“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.

“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.

“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.

You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.

You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.

“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.

“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.

“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.

You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.

“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.

He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.

“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.

You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.

He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.

You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.

“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.

“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.

You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.

“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.

And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.

You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.

“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.

His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.

“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.

“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.

It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.

He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.

“can i be freed now?” He asks.

“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.

“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.

“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”

“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.

You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.

His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.

“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.

“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.

“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.

You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.

“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.

“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.

RIIIIING

RIIIIING

You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.

Shit.

“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”

“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.

“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.

“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”

“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.

“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.

“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.

“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.

“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.

You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.

“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.

“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.

You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.

“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.

“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.

“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.

“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.

“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.

Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…

#ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #milkman smut #milkman x reader #milk the man #milkman #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses

[ghostlywhiskey]

clawing my walls at the thought of neighbor!simon in a white tank top and pajama pants early in the morning to grab mail from the day before he forgot to get on his way in. he's got a cup of tea in his hands and most likely barefoot - just a quick walk from the front door to the mailbox, so it's fine.

then there's you who is rushing out the front door, cursing slightly because you're running late for work. and he can't help but linger by the mailbox a little longer to watch you as you frantically try to close your front door and then make your way to your car. watching you try to get in the car itself was a show of it's own between your bag, coffee tumbler and car keys. and not being home in the past few months, he didn't realize the owner of the home next to him had rented it out to someone else.

and when you catch his gaze on you, you can't help but feel embarrassed. the large man raising his mug towards you while a rough 'mornin' left his lips. you knew your neighbor was military, that was about all you knew when you toured the home, the owner making note the neighbor to your right was away most of the time while the one to your left was a family of four. "morning!" you quickly shout back in response before slipping into your car, mentally kicking yourself because why did you shout it out when he could have easily heard you at a normal level.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #nic talks ghost #ignore me this is me rambling out thoughts <33 #neighbor!simon