#give me your money and be free of sin

[cyberphuck]

Text me right now if you truly need help I promise to assist you with $200 if that will help you a long way +1-862-234-0977

My boobs scared him away :(

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

[emporium]

Behind the Meme: Complaint Tablet to Ea-nasir

In 1953, explorer Sir Leonard Woolley discovered and acquired the tablet from what is believed to be the ruins of Ea-nasir's home while on an expedition to the city of Ur. Several other similar tablets complaining about poor copper quality were also recovered, suggesting Ea-nasir frequently sent his customers poor-quality goods. The tablet is currently held at the British Museum.

A few of the most viral Tumblr posts about this meme: https://probablybadrpgideas.tumblr.com/post/171826102481/your-players-are-faced-with-an-ancient-sumerian https://brightwanderer.tumblr.com/post/645195882465230848/ea-nasir-is-that-you

Translation of the tablet:

Tell Ea-nasir: Nanni sends the following message:

When you came, you said to me as follows : "I will give Gimil-Sin (when he comes) fine quality copper ingots." You left then but you did not do what you promised me. You put ingots which were not good before my messenger (Sit-Sin) and said: "If you want to take them, take them; if you do not want to take them, go away!"

What do you take me for, that you treat somebody like me with such contempt? I have sent as messengers gentlemen like ourselves to collect the bag with my money (deposited with you) but you have treated me with contempt by sending them back to me empty-handed several times, and that through enemy territory. Is there anyone among the merchants who trade with Telmun who has treated me in this way? You alone treat my messenger with contempt! On account of that one (trifling) mina of silver which I owe(?) you, you feel free to speak in such a way, while I have given to the palace on your behalf 1,080 pounds of copper, and umi-abum has likewise given 1,080 pounds of copper, apart from what we both have had written on a sealed tablet to be kept in the temple of Samas.

How have you treated me for that copper? You have withheld my money bag from me in enemy territory; it is now up to you to restore (my money) to me in full.

Take cognizance that (from now on) I will not accept here any copper from you that is not of fine quality. I shall (from now on) select and take the ingots individually in my own yard, and I shall exercise against you my right of rejection because you have treated me with contempt.

Source: https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/complaint-tablet-to-ea-nasir

[delirious-donna]

The Surprise [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: it’s 2am and here I am posting this smut-filled fic because I can’t sleep and I can’t stop thinking about this man. p.s. requests are open for Higuruma specifically so drop me an ask if you wanna give me some ideas for everyone’s favourite lawyer!

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: lingerie, pussy drunk Hiromi (it’s canon don’t fight me), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it folks) and other goodies

Masterlist

“Will that be everything for you today?” The cheery assistant asked offering a genuine smile whilst they rang through your purchases and packed them carefully into a neat little box.

Your stomach fluttered with the thought of what might transpire this coming weekend, a long-planned weekend that couldn’t arrive quick enough. The delicate tissue paper wrapped around the items inside the box before the assistant closed it over, tied a ribbon securely and placed it in a paper bag.

“Yes, that’s it. Thank you for your help earlier, I appreciate it!”

With a bounce in your step and a sizeable dent in your bank balance, you exited the boutique store to daydream about your husband’s reaction to your little splurge. Neither of you were accustomed to dropping large sums of money so randomly, both believing that an air of caution and frugality would see you through any potential storms on the horizon, but you had walked past this store so many times and finally been tempted into their den of sinful delights.

Inclusive-sized mannequins displayed a range of differently styled lingerie, from demure bridal wear to raunchy strips of leather and wide mesh that would leave very little to the imagination. At first, you were convinced it would only be window shopping, however, when you spied an elegant-looking black bodysuit that seemed like it would hold all your bits in without compromising the sex appeal element, it was game over.

Once you were interested, the friendly young assistant swooped in and soon you were trying it on in the fancy dressing room. The lighting was complimenting rather than garishly fluorescent, and the lull of soft, sensual music added to the overall experience, one you were rather enjoying. The strapless bodysuit hugged your curves and accentuated your décolletage nicely. Clearly, it was designed by scientists to support your breasts without cumbersome straps, and you silently praised their ingenuity. Paired with crotchless fishnet tights that you could secure beneath the suit—a suggestion from your enthusiastic little helper—you knew that Hiromi would likely lose his mind and you couldn’t wait.

Your poor, overworked and perpetually exhausted husband had been burning the candle at both ends for the past nearly four months, neck deep in a case that if he were to win would be a monumental victory in his career. In support, you packed him off every morning with a full lunch consisting of his favourite foods, mostly to encourage him to actually eat instead of consuming mug after mug of rancid instant coffee. In your evenings, you helped him go over witness testimonies, read over his arguments for clarity, and did everything you could to lighten his load around the house. It wouldn’t be a permanent arrangement, you both knew that, and to say he appreciated your support was an understatement.

That’s why when he told you that it was all drawing to a conclusion and that he was cautiously optimistic it would end in his favour, you revelled in that knowledge. Whether it did come to fruition or not, his weekend would be free, and he promised to spend some real quality time with you without the cloud of looming work. There was nothing more he could do, no more past cases he could study and the thought of basking in his undivided attention warmed your heart and soul.

With two days remaining before your scheduled weekend plans to do absolutely nothing but relax and unwind in each other’s presence, you again peeked at the box you’d tucked into your side of the wardrobe, away from prying eyes. Maybe it was a bout of nerves, a moment of body consciousness, that made you pull your surprise out to examine the contents. Whatever it was, you worried your bottom lip once the intimate outfit was laid out on the bedspread.

“What was I thinking… this is too much,” you quietly scolded yourself.

Flopping beside the expensive scraps of fabric, you brushed a palm down your face and reminded yourself that you looked fucking divine in the changing room of the boutique, so why would it be any different now? More so, you knew deep in your heart that Hiromi adored you and thought you were a goddess, one he claimed he didn’t deserve.

A few moments later, you stood in front of the mirrored wardrobe to scrutinise your reflection. Your eyes narrowed as you tugged the sweetheart cups into place and felt the soft squish of your breast jiggle inside. Turning to the side, a hand ran the length of your torso with a grin unfurling at the tight hug of the sheer-panelled fabric. Damn, your backside looked real good from this angle. But maybe the fishnets were too much, you mused, turning this way and that.

You ran your fingers through your hair, wondering if you should try to style it, maybe give it some more volume and texture. It was at that moment, whilst making kissy faces at your reflection with your hands scrunching handfuls of your hair and up on your tippy toes to extend the length of your legs, that the bedroom door opened, and you froze like a deer in headlights.

~

Higuruma Hiromi was on cloud nine. Not only had he won a career-defining case against all the odds, but the judge had also taken less time to deliberate than anyone expected they would. After a hearty swig of celebratory champagne drank from crappy paper cups with his partner and their secretaries, he was on the first train home to truly celebrate with the only person that mattered—you.

What he didn’t expect to find when he entered the house as stealthily as he could manage was the vision of you standing in the middle of the bedroom looking like one of the pin-up models from the magazines he would hide under his mattress as a young man.

Like a slightly tipsy house cat, he tiptoed his way through the rooms, listening for signs of you and driving straight towards the bedroom to surprise you with his unannounced return. The door bounced open on its hinges and he stood, shell-shocked for a moment before it turned to white-hot appreciation.

You looked beautiful, stunning, breathtaking even. There weren’t enough colourful adjectives for how he felt about you at any given time, but right now, modelling a black bodysuit that hugged both your butt and your breasts, he was entirely dumbstruck. Hiromi didn’t know where to look, or whether you’d rather he look away given your strangled yelp of surprise at his sudden appearance. You made no effort to cover yourself or shove him out the door, no, you both faced one another as if neither of you knew what to do or say.

His eyes continued to betray him, slowly caressing the length of your figure and finding new things to appreciate; the sweetheart cups, the gauzy panels that allowed him glimpses of your skin beneath, and not to mention the fishnet tights. He hadn’t seen you wear anything like those since your dating years, and he had forgotten how much he missed them, or how many he had ruined by ripping through the gusset in his haste.

“What are you doing home?” You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and back to your husband, heat filling your face but something else followed on the tails of your embarrassment, something more pleasant.

Hiromi ran this thumb over his mouth, gaze pointedly fixed on your chest, and you cleared your throat with emphasis until he finally met your eye and the arch of your eyebrow. Already his neck looked red, like a rash had spread from below the collar of his shirt and travelled towards his jaw. If you could describe a person as having hearts for eyes, it would be one Higuruma Hiromi and you adored him for his open adoration.

“We… I won,” he managed weakly, smiling as if coming out of a daze and you blinked for a moment while processing the words.

“You won?”

He chuckled. “I won.”

A wealth of emotions passed over your face until you ended with ecstatic pride, tears near pricking your eyes as you launched yourself into his arms and peppered his cheeks and nose with enough kisses to make him blush more furiously. His hands settled on your hips, his touch more hesitant than you would expect given the circumstances and you pulled back to give him a questioning look.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited than this.”

“Darling…” he started, skimming his fingertips up and down your sides before rounding to your full backside and squeezing as he spoke. “What’s this?”

In your joy, you had forgotten that Hiromi had walked in on you wearing the lingerie that was meant to be for this weekend and meant to be a surprise. You guessed it still had been, although not the one you planned. “Oh, just a little something to show my hardworking man that I love and adore him. Nothing much.”

“Nothing much…” he repeated in a disbelieving whisper. A finger ran the length of your spine, from the top of your backside to near the base of your skull, dragging it slowly and watching you shudder beneath his deliberate touch. Your shoulder blades shifted, pushing your chest out further and into his, which earned you a groan of appreciation.

“I wouldn’t call this nothing much. You look like a wet dream come to life.”

He walked you backwards, the scent of champagne hot on his breath and your stomach curled into a mass of twisted anticipation—heavy in the depths of your belly. Your thighs crashed into the edge of the bed and Hiromi used your moment of imbalance to shove you atop, quickly shucking out of his jacket and crawling over you.

“Hiromi,” you squeaked between peals of laughter. The man in question only hummed in response, his hooded eyes heavy with nothing that spoke of fatigue. The whisky colour of his eyes appeared blown almost completely black by the dilation of his pupils, and he licked over his lips in what looked like anticipation of a hearty meal.

That meal was you…

Any protest you might have offered died in your throat when he claimed your mouth like a man possessed. His tongue curled over your teeth, pushing the memory of champagne into the space he dominated and greedily swallowing your answering moan. His forearms bracketed your head, keeping you caged and unable to run from him, not that you had any desire to, not when you could feel the press of his cock thickening against your lower half.

Loosening the knot of his tie with one finger, you took the moment to grab fistfuls of the shirt at his back, tugging the tails out of his trousers and sliding your palms beneath the starched surface to scratch along his spine. Hiromi shuddered, the disconnect of your lips an audible pop that left a web of saliva between you, only breaking with a quick swipe of your pink tongue.

“I don’t even have my make-up or hair done, you beast!” The half-hearted protest fell on deaf ears, or so you thought when his mouth moved to your neck and down to your collarbone, sucking little blooming lovebites on his journey. When he reached the abundant swell of your breasts, he glanced up whilst his tongue pathed across the top of your left breast, dipping into the valley between and then resuming the path over the right.

“You think I need face paint or styled hair to love you more? Fuck, sweetheart… I nearly came in my briefs the minute I opened the door.” The length of his aquiline nose nudged between your breasts, nuzzling the soft mounds like a cat warming by the fire. Carding your fingers through his hair, you wriggled beneath him and let out a breathy sigh, the weight and conviction of his love settling over you in perfect comfort. There would be no more argument from you, and Hiromi won for the second time that day.

With methodical slowness he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lave the sheer panels at either side of your abdomen and forcing you to arch from the warm sensation of his eager tongue. You’d barely managed to get his shirt off his shoulders before he was exploring you like this was his first time with your body. The white button-up hung down his back, sleeves caught by his elbows, and he made no move to strip it off much to your annoyance.

He stopped abruptly when he reached your pelvic mound, chin resting there whilst his fingers trailed the arch of your foot, up the inside of your calf and tickled behind your knee. “Stop that, mister!” You scolded with laughter threatening to bubble out.

“Spread ‘em and I will,” he challenged with a smirk.

The space between your freshly parted thighs became his home, an arm wound around your hip pawing at the fat of your thigh and the line where it met your arse, eliciting shivers that rippled over your skin like a calm lake disturbed by a skimming stone. He fingered the two snaps that kept the bodysuit in place, stroking firmly over your clothed cunt and pushing the barrier deeper until it started to feel sticky from your arousal. Looking all too smug, he freed the snaps with a grunt of satisfaction, sure that his next step would be to rip through the gusset of your raunchy fishnets so he could taste you. That moment never came.

You felt the vibration shudder through your husband, his head falling forward to obscure what you could see of his face, and you rocked your hips back and forth in invitation. The cool air of the room contrasted by the hot fan of his breath on your slit made you clench around a disappointing nothing, frowning at his sudden pause.

For a long moment, there was only silence. When he looked up, his expression nearly stole your breath. Thick black eyebrows pinched together, visible strain around his drooped eyes and a throaty whine made your pussy flutter with need. This was the Hiromi that only came out to play every now and again. The one who would wring you like a wet dish towel for just one more orgasm, one more mouthful of your hot nectar.

“Crotchless, really?” he murmured, dragging a finger across your puffy folds where the thin membrane of the tights should have resided and you nearly jolted upwards to the ceiling, having forgotten that little fact in the heat of the moment.

Cupping his cheek in your palm, you gave a cheeky wink. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about all the pairs of tights you’ve ruined over the years. These were just a… precaution.” Hiromi groaned, thrusting his face into your pussy without warning. The flat of his tongue ran the length of you, making you perfectly slippery in mere seconds, only for the tip of the wet muscle to fuck into your entrance immediately.

“Oh, fuck… Hiro!”

You yanked great tufts of his hair to no avail; he was lost to eating you out like a man starved. The prominent slope of his nose slid back and forth across your bundle of nerves, and it lit up your insides like the continuous explosion of miniature firecrackers.

Whining from his sudden onslaught, you tried to run by easing up the bed, but your attempts were shot down in flames by sharp insistent tugs of your hips. Hiromi was enthusiastic at the best of times when it came to going down on you, but it was nothing compared to right now. The wet squelching sucks of his lips and tongue flooded the bedroom, only being accompanied by your decadent moans and panting breaths as you tried not to lose your sanity entirely.

Hiromi was lost in you; the scent of your favourite body wash, the taste of your arousal when it trickled from your core mixed with the slight salt of your skin, the plush silk of your thighs beneath his prodding fingertips and the unrestrained noises that caressed his ears.

He almost missed your orgasm so clouded was his mind in the quest to turn you into a puddle of liquid goo for only his consumption. The wave of it crested through the length of your body, vibrating every limb and twitching each nerve ending. Your spine arched from the unmade sheets, the hand coiled tight in Hiromi’s hair spasming and tugging without even meaning to and that’s when he noticed. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his lips around your pulsing clit and sucked it deeper into his mouth.

Stars winked into your vision at being thrust from one orgasm directly into another so violently. Your pussy fluttered ceaselessly, a craving deep in your gut to be filled at all costs, yet right now all you could do was hold on for dear life whilst you bucked and rutted against your husband’s face, wetting it thoroughly. He nosed at your quaking thigh, sharp incisors nipping your yielding flesh until you yelped and tried to close your legs without success.

You became aware of movement, the absence of shoulders beneath your thighs and you blinked to find a desperate predator stripping off his clothes whilst prowling back and forth at the foot of the bed. Hiromi grasped his cock, tugging it down to the base to spread the leaked precum that continued to dribble from his cockhead. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had already cum, but he was always the excitable type who would leak and leak until you did something about it, usually opting to take him down your throat until he convulsed and spilt everything he had to offer.

Your hand trailed lower down your body, fingers playing in the spit-soaked mess he’d left behind in his hurry to stand and strip. Hiromi whined; head cocked to the side as he watched you play idly with your puffy lips flooded with the surge of blood and circling your pert little pearl. He fucked his fist harder, the other hand rolling his heavy balls until his stomach sucked in and your nostrils flared in warning.

“C’mere mister lawyer, I don’t want you wasting your orgasm when it could be filling me nicely.”

How quickly the tables could turn. One minute he was the predator, pawing and demanding, taking what he wanted without question, and the next he was the prey. Trapped on his back with cheeks a ruddy hue and eyes that begged for clemency. Your much small hand encased his dick, twisting your palm on each upward stroke while you straddled him and rocked yourself against the balls he’d just been palming.

His hands shook with restraint as they reached for your breasts, filling his broad palms and massaging them until you dipped low to claim his lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue, in his mouth and the sensation empowered you, fucking his throbbing cock through your folds until he twitched and whimpered some more.

“Please… fuck. Need to be inside. Might not last. God, you’re so fucking sexy. Don’t deserve you.” Hiromi babbled every syllable, sounding drunk when there was little to no alcohol left in his system.

His fingertips dipped inside the cups of your bodysuit, tweaking at your nipples and you indulged his silent request by allowing him to fold the cups down and let the spill of your tits fill his face. With renewed vigour and enthusiasm, he mouthed at you and ran his tongue in circles around your nipples one at a time.

You keened at the familiar sensation, swept away by a current of pure indulgence when he moved to suckle you. It was the perfect moment to strike, with Hiromi distracted in flicking his tongue over and over, round and round your swollen bud, you guided him to notch at your entrance and slowly sank onto his needy dick. He grunted; his grip tightening on your waist, but he refused to come up for air, continuing to nudge his nose into your breast, lips pulling the nipple taut until he finally released with a gasp.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you more than I can express.”

Hiromi worshipped you with his gaze, eyes full of devotion and unbridled passion whilst you rode him steadily. The sticky pap pap pap of your pelvis meeting his was the soundtrack to your lovemaking, because beneath the sexy lingerie and the ideas you had planned for the weekend, that’s what this was and always would be. You knew he didn’t need the extra faff to love you with his whole heart. You knew that he was aroused by you simply walking through the kitchen in a pair of his boxers.

You knew he loved you for you.

His dappled cheeks darkened further, the furrow of his brow telling of how he was trying to stave off his release, but you wanted him as undone as you had been, and you would not be denied. Leaning forward, your palms found purchase on his shoulders, breasts bouncing freely in time with your hips, and you squeezed around his shaft until the vein in his temple popped and he let out a guttural groan.

Hiromi grabbed around your middle, flipping you up and over so that he could thrust himself into overstimulation without hindrance. Pressing your thighs to your chest, you heard the telltale rip and knew that another pair of tights had fallen victim to Higuruma Hiromi despite your best efforts to keep them safe. His swollen cock pumped thick spurts of his milky cum against your cervix, filling you to the brim yet continuing to sloppily thrust in and out.

“-cum again… gotta—fuckkk. You’re so tight,” he bit through the words, fighting the steady burn of overstimulation to see you orgasm for the third time and you were close. A glob of spit landed against your clit, thick fingers shaking from exertion rubbing the frothy mess into you with insistent motions. He was a man possessed, falling apart for him was as easy as drawing breath and he caught you on your free fall.

You chanted his name in some semblance of a prayer, thrashing and clawing at anything you could reach until you milked him again and he lost the ability to hold himself up. Hiromi fell atop you, his face pressed into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, hot shuddering moans stifled by his mouth on your neck while he weakly tried to bear some of his weight onto an arm.

“Stop squirming, you’re not that heavy, Hiro,” you teased with a light slap against his back.

Once you could both speak without sounding winded, you combed your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, moving the strands that stuck to his forehead away until you could trace his eyebrows, his jaw, and the bridge of his nose. “Y’know… you ripped my tights—again.”

Hiromi chuckled, rubbing his cheek against your chest. “I did, and I’d do it again. Maybe give them a miss if we do this again, hm?”

“You liked the surprise then?”

“I already told you that I did, not that I needed it. All I ever need is you.”

It was your turn to chuckle, booping the tip of his nose. “Maybe when I show you the receipt, you’ll change your tune.”

“… sweetheart. How much did it cost? Don’t roll away, missy! Answer my question. Hey. Hey! You have to answer the lawyer when they ask a question.”

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING DESIRED !!! TOTO W. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: "don't mix business with pleasure" they said, but who were they to stop her and toto from wanting each other?

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), based on a request from my ask, use of explicit language, rbr test driver!horner!reader (christian's sister), forbidden love trope-ish, porn with plot, unprotected sex (plz don't do that), office sex, lowk filthy, size kink (heavy on this), choking, dacryphilia

song rec: now by trouble maker

note: this is the closest thing you'll ever have to a fic where a horner and a wolff banged. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

she wanted him. and he wanted her too. he just refused to let his desires give in to save face.

and she hated it so much. she hated that she saw him as someone else’s younger sister and nothing else. 

she hated that she was even related to christian horner of all people. she usually didn’t care about christian— she had no reason to dislike him as he’d been nothing but a caring brother. she just hated that toto wolff saw her as nothing but an extension to christian’s surname. 

she supposed that’s what would happen as she entered the motorsports industry later than he did. it wasn’t her fault that christian was twenty years older than her.

it wasn’t his fault either. but to be told that you were off limits to every single man in the grid and every team? she loathed her brother so much.

because amongst those men that christian horner had warned, the mercedes amg team principal became the subject of her interest— and her desire for him grew as her brother and toto wolff became friends outside of their teams. 

“you don’t have to mix business with pleasure,” she almost scoffed when christian told her about his friendship with toto.

how hypocritical, she thought, because even i’m not allowed to see drivers or staff outside of business hours for ‘pleasurable’ reasons. 

at the age of 30, many would’ve expected her to be shackled to some man outside of the industry— probably married to him with a child. 

yet here she was, a single woman whose title as a test driver for red bull racing expired a few weeks ago. she appreciated the opportunity given by her brother— the team principal, really. but the longer she worked for his team the longer his big brother act would prevent her from wanting anyone. 

and if christian told her that she couldn’t have anyone, then he too couldn’t have her intelligence that helped bring his team to success.

and when the rumours of her contract’s expiration went around the pit lane— every team scouted her. after all, this horner was an important asset to red bull’s success for this season and the season ahead of them.

she could’ve accepted scuderia ferrari’s offer. amongst the desperate teams that rolled the red carpet for her, the scarlet team offered her a large sum of money. they wanted her knowledge in car development as much as they wanted her expertise in driving. 

yet she didn’t choose the money. instead, she found herself sitting across from the mercedes team principal. why?

“you’ve been looking well,” toto started, his eyes trained on her as he spoke, “did your brother’s team stress you out that much?” 

“being in that team is stressful, alright,” she scoffed, earning a deep chuckle from toto as she continued, “30 years old and i’m still being treated like i’m sixteen. all they wanted was my brain— yet my brother kept me on a tight leash as if i didn’t know any better outside this industry.” 

“so now you’ve decided to let your contract expire,” toto said with a nod of understanding. “he can’t do so much about it. you’re a free woman.”

“i’ve always been,” she gave him a grim smile and quipped, “all the men in our business just refused to believe that because of who my brother was.”

“you were a younger woman,” toto said with a gulp, “it was only right of christian to protect you like he did.”

“and five years later, i’ve grown,” she bit back.

“you are still his younger sister,” toto reasoned. he knew where the younger horner was getting at here. 

there was an unspoken agreement between the two that they wanted each other. they’ve agreed on it during dinners, during their family vacations and during those days when toto wolff was invited into christian’s home and she was there too.

they’ve always agreed on it. yet toto was letting her down like this— like the agreement should remain unspoken and unheard of. 

“are you seriously going to let his stupid mouth and his whole big brother act dictate what you want, toto?” she asked with a hint of irritation in her tone. “i’m not christian— and he’s not me because he doesn’t know how much you fucking want me. and i do. i do understand.” 

“i allowed myself a couple of months— months to decide on whether or not i was going to stay in his team,” she continued. “i could’ve signed before the season was over but i didn’t. because this gives me the chance to work with your team— to work with you.”

“this,” she pointed at the contract in front of her. “gives me the chance to make you realize that i’m not just an extension to your friend’s name. that your feelings for me shouldn’t be deterred by your friendship with my brother— who i want nothing to do with because it’s not his life that’s being put on hold. it’s mine.”

she let out a heavy sigh and chuckled humourlessly. “but i suppose we shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.”

he merely stared at her as she stood up. she flashed him a smile as if she hadn’t just gone off and berated him for listening too much to christian. 

then she said, “i’ll come back next week. i’m expecting the contract agreement to be modified by then so we can finalize the deal.”

yeah, who the fuck was christian for him to dictate who she wanted and who toto wanted? 

the door slammed shut as she turned around, the gap between her and toto was little to nothing as his breath fanned across her face. he dipped his head and captured her lips in a lustful kiss. 

she almost moaned at the feeling of his tongue tangling with hers. her body burned in desire as she craved for more. 

toto wanted more too, and she could tell that by the way he ravaged her without hesitation. 

his office at the factory was filled with nothing but silent screams and sounds of low growl and skin slapping. everybody had left hours before she arrived at the factory. 

thankfully the mercedes staff wouldn’t have to hear their employer fucking the most scouted talent at the pit lane right now— and even if they did, it was in their best interest to keep their mouth shut about it. 

but toto and the woman couldn’t find themselves to care at the moment, both were too drawn to each other as toto’s cock thrusted into her deeply. 

she held into the leather couch and cried quietly, tears threatening to fall from the pleasure that she felt when his cock continued to rub against the sensitive spot that nestled inside her cunt. 

“fuck, schatz,” toto hissed from behind her, pulling her back against his chest as he wrapped his hand around her neck and squeezed it lightly. she gasped, catching the last of her breath before he let go and kept his hand around her. 

then his other hand took hers and placed her palm flat against her stomach, making her squirm and moan. “do you feel that, liebling? that’s my cock. such a filthy girl- wanting a big cock inside this little pussy of hers,” he chuckled darkly as he continued to fuck her.

she loved the feeling of it— his cock buried in her cunt while he manhandled her body. the constant protrusion in her stomach drove her wild. she had always known that toto was taller and bigger than most— she just hadn’t expected to crave for more when she felt her lower stomach bulging as he fucked her. 

“so desperate f’me,” he muttered, bottoming out inside of her as she whined. her whining subsided when he squeezed her throat again.

“ah shit~” she gasped breathlessly, feeling the pressure around her neck increasing as her eyes rolled back in pleasure. 

“so fucking tight,” toto grunted in her ear, nipping on it as he continued to fuck her relentlessly. “is this what i’ve been missing out on, then? your desperation for me and for my cock, hm?”

and when his grip loosened, she let out a sigh and quietly whimpered, “yes— wanted your cock so bad, toto.”

“you’ve got it now, schatz,” he muttered, moaning at her walls throbbing around him as he continued, “i fucked my cock at the thought of you, you know? wanted to fuck you so bad as much as you wanted me.”

“stroked my cock when you wore those short dresses,” he taunted, earning a whimper from her as she continued to listen to his filthy words, “wishing it’s your hands. i could just hear your voice telling me how your hands couldn’t even wrap themselves around my cock- you are so small in comparison to me— i can’t believe this cunt of yours could even fit all of me.”

“toto, i- i,” she whined, “‘m- ah, hah~ ‘m gonna cum.”

“i know, liebling,” his thrusting became frantic as he chased his high and hers. “i can feel your cunt around me— you’re about to cum aren’t you?”

“mhm— toto pleaseee~” she cried out, “please cum inside me.”

“yeah? you want me to cum inside you?” he hummed in pleasure, “do you want me to fuck this pussy of yours ‘til you’re full of my cum?” 

“ye- yes, yes!” she exclaimed, mewling as she continued to plead, “‘s so- so good. so fucking good— please fill me up!” 

“how bad do you want it?” he could feel himself nearing his orgasm as well, but he couldn’t help himself. “tell me. how bad do you want it, liebling?”

“soooo bad~ god! toto,” she sobbed.

“it’s just me, liebling, there’s no need to call me god,” he chuckled one last time as he groaned loudly, feeling her spongy walls clenching around him as she let out a loud whine. “fuuuuck~ schatz, i’m gonna— oh fuck!” 

his cock twitched against her walls and painted them white, his thrusting slowing down as he let out a long sigh. 

pulling out of her, toto sat on the couch and observed her tear stained face with a smile. his large hand pulled her body on his lap, hearing her breath quiver as she gathered her composure.

“this better not be the last time, toto,” she whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck with a soft sigh. 

he chuckled quietly, “you’re working alongside me now, schatz. and you’re stuck with me outside of work. i know this isn’t the last time.” 

don’t mix business with pleasure? sure. 

after all, business brought stress. pleasure took the stress away. 

toto knew that she’d be able to handle both. he was nothing but proud of her. he couldn’t believe that this resilient woman finally became his. 

he wouldn’t let go of her that easily. not when he finally had her.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

[beastofburdenxo]

Consider It Done

Tommy kidnaps his biggest enemy's daughter as payback. But, things aren't always what they seem.

Allusions of violence, mention of abuse, no smut.

You woke up in what looked like a dreary basement. Your throat was dry, and your head felt funny. All you remember is just walking down the street and having a wet rag being shoved over your face from behind. Assuming that it was chloroform, because you were knocked out immediately after that.

You hear a door being opened and someone walking down the stairs. For some reason, you dash into a dark corner, thinking that it was going to save you. An oil lamp is turned on, illuminating the space and the man before you. "There you are love, glad to see you up and alert." A cigarette is lit. "Would you like a smoke?" You ignore the question altogether and respond with one of your own. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"My name is Thomas shelby Love, but you can call me Tommy. I hate meeting like this. It's nothing personal, really, just business. Your father owes me money and isn't taking me seriously, so I did what I had to do."

Your eyes bug out at this information. Of course, your asshole father has made another enemy. And the feared Tommy shelby, the devil of small heath, at that. "And you think taking me will loosen him up? He'd rather die than give up anything of his. To him, people are replaceable, money not so much. I'm sorry that you put in so much work to get me, but honestly, he's probably glad I'm out of his hair."

"Is that right? What a shame that is." Tommy draws off his cigarette. "Such a pretty thing, kidnapped and taken to the devil's mansion, thrown in a basement never to be seen again. Surely he loves you more than that, dear."

"The man killed all of my pets when I refused to marry one of his gross friends. He has burned my clothes before, locked me out of the house. Trust me, Tommy, he doesn't care. He has never liked me and I don't know why."

"You are like a wild horse that can't be broken, and your father can't stand it. You won't bend to his will like most and from where I'm standing, it's like you are his enemy and not his daughter. I'd take it as a compliment. If he liked you, that would mean that you two are similar. I have no desire to harm you, I'll behave if you do. Give it a couple of days, and if he doesn't budge, you are free to go. I'll even give you money for a ticket anywhere you want to go."

You think for a moment. "So you don't want to hurt me? You'd rather help me out?"

Tommy nods, "I see a lot of myself in you. In fact, you promise to be good, I'll let you out of here and into the house. Take it as a mini vacation, time to think. If your father does pay up, you'll still get that ticket out if you'd like. Regardless of what he does or doesn't do, it won't affect you."

You reach for a cigarette, and Tommy obliges. "I can't just leave my mom alone with his ass. He's mean to her too, Tommy. He needs to pay for his sins sooner rather than later."

Tommy chuckles, "You'd make one hell of a peaky blinder. Fiesty and headstrong. Are you looking for a new job, perhaps?"

"Tommy, I'm serious," you reply, "I'd say my mom would give anything for him to be gone. If you took care if it, you'd get your money and then some. It would have to be discreet of course."

"Kidnap victim asking her kidnapper to put a hit out on her own father? That's a new one for me, love. It does sound tempting, I will say. Never had much use for an abusive wife beater."

You stand up with a new sense of purpose. "Either you do it, or when I get out, l will do it myself!"

Tommy comes towards you like he's going to grab you, but he stops himself from touching you. "No, I can't have that. There's no need for an innocent to have blood on her hands. If you aren't successful, he will kill you, love. He won't think twice about it."

Tommy finally reaches out and gently stokes your face, "I don't want the fire to go out of your pretty eyes. Killing a man does that to a person, and you don't deserve that. If you want it done, consider it done. Consider yourself a partner in this and not a helpless victim. My only wish is that once this is all over, I can see you again. With permission, this time, of course. Let me do things the right way. Dinner?"

"Kidnapper asking his victim to dinner once she is released? That's a new one for me Tommy."

You take the cigarette from his mouth, since yours is long gone, and take a drag as if to think about it.

"Consider it done."

[blackleatherjacketz]

Shadow and Sin: Chapter 1

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just recently moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Your art is finally put on display at a local gallery, and Klaus has a vested interest in it.

Warnings: Klaus Being Klaus, No Personal Space, Alcohol, Flirting, Almost Kisses, Art Interpretation, Dark Themes

Word Count: 1.2k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

Your first art show in New Orleans isn’t nearly as extravagant as you thought it would be, despite the small jazz band in the corner and the free champagne being served at the door. The jubilant music seems to fade off into the distance as you stand just a few feet away from one of your pieces, silently stalking the patrons as they walk by and observe it, muttering amongst themselves. You try to hone in on what they’re saying about your work, about how it makes them feel, or if they’ve caught onto any messages you’ve hidden in your mixed medium on canvas. So far it’s just been a mixture of silence and solitary comments like “interesting” or “hmm” as the glass of champagne warms to room temperature in your hand.

“Which one’s yours?” A man’s eloquent voice pulls you from your anxious thoughts, forcing you to look over at his delicately handsome face as he walks toward you with a confidence that could rival royalty.

“Huh?” You take a sip of your lukewarm champagne in order to gain some liquid courage to engage with this gorgeous man who seemed to appear out of thin air.

“I’d recognize that look anywhere,” he starts, touching one of the sculptures he clearly wasn’t supposed to. “Will they like it? Will they understand it? But most importantly, will they buy it?”

“That obvious, huh?” You take another sip, letting the bubbles take their time to crinkle your nose as the rest of the carbonation slowly fizzles out.

“Painfully, I’m afraid.” That smirk of his warms into a coy smile as he takes a step toward you, his own glass of champagne nearly empty. “Yours isn’t the landscape with the sailboat, no… those waters look far too calm for you.” He stands next to you and continues to guess, letting his fresh clean scent surround you as hints of a bergamont settle into the air. “Not the still life either, you don’t strike me as someone who focuses on something as mundane as coffee and beignets.” He pauses and looks at you briefly, taking in your features. “No, a work of art from your hands has to contain something different, something much… darker.”

“And what makes you think that?” You chide in return, enjoying this little game he’s created for himself. “Maybe I love coffee and beignets.”

“Well, darling, who doesn’t? But that’s not why you became an artist, now is it?” He raises his eyebrows, giving you a chance to notice the hints of green and gold in his blue eyes.

He was good, you’ll give him that.

“My money’s on the portrait of the faceless woman drenched in blood.” His tone drops to the level of darkness he previously described as he steps behind you, his voice like butter as it melts down each vertebrae of your spine. “It’s beautiful, really; the way you captured the themes of the tortured and macabre while still maintaining an intimate beauty of the feminine experience. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

His change in tambre and location freezes you in place, forcing you to look at your own painting through his eyes as he hovers behind you, making you shiver with the anticipation of his intentions. The fact that you’ve allowed him to get this close so fast makes you wrestle with the idea that you may already desire this stranger based on nothing more than the words he’s chosen to speak with that velvety voice of his. Are you that subject to flattery? That desperate for validation? Longing that deeply for some level of intimate connection? Perhaps you are...

After what seems like an eternity of moral gymnastics, you no longer resist the temptation to turn toward him as he guesses correctly, noting the triumphant look on his face as your lips linger mere inches away from his. You barely notice the still breath that remains inside your lungs, expanding your rib cage for far too long as you stare at his plump lips, taking heed of the single droplet of champagne that rests on them.

“And what makes you such an expert on the feminine experience?” You manage to ask as he allows you to stare at him a little bit longer before answering your question.

“Oh, I’m not. I’m merely a curious third party who’s invested in the local artists that my charitable donations help support.” He confesses with a step back.

“You’re a benefactor?” You don’t mean to sound so judgmental, but he doesn’t exactly look like most of the ancient relics who usually pour money into the city. If you’re being honest, he looks more like one of the musicians you’d find on the street corner playing a cover of ‘Wonderwall’ on guitar for tips.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, love, we come in all shapes and sizes.” He laughs, looking you up and down while the shock of his financial status slowly begins to wear off. “Now, tell me, was I right? Is that your painting?”

“Maybe.” You cross her arms over your chest, trying your best to resist his evident charms. “But you already knew that, being a benefactor and all; that’s cheating.”

“Cheating is such a harsh word. I merely used my astute powers of observation to put two and two together.” He casually places his hand on your shoulder with a gentle squeeze in order to keep you near. “Surely, you can’t fault me for that.”

“I suppose not.” Your heart races at his sudden touch, the gleam in his eyes barely hiding the raging fire behind them. He’s going to be trouble, you can already tell. “Do you flirt like this with every new artist you meet?”

“Just the morbidly disturbed ones that I find deeply enchanting.” His strange compliment is oddly personal, hinting that he might know a little bit more about you than he’s currently letting on.

“You think I’m morbidly disturbed?”

He gives you a knowing look.

“Oh, it’s all over the canvas, love. It doesn’t take an expert to notice the hurried brush strokes in the busy background, the aggression with which you plastered the feminist news clippings together contrasted against the time you took to purposefully pour the viscous, slow drip of blood on it until it’s nearly spilling onto the floor.” He closes the gap between you, his hand now in your hair.

You swallow hard as he fishes around in your psyche for an accurate interpretation of your work, his proximity nearly turning your insides to quicksand as his cologne dizzies you on the spot. Good god, he’s beautiful.

“You know there are other ways of releasing all that pent up rage and aggression… all that passion.” He leans in so that his lips ghost over your cheek as it blushes against his stubble. “Although they aren’t quite as lucrative as this.”

“And what would those be?” You ask coyly, eagerly daring him to show you.

But instead of going in further for a demonstration, he leans back with a satisfied grin, as if he’s already gotten everything he wants from you at that moment. He grabs a pen from a nearby table and takes your hand, writing his phone number on your palm. “Find me when you feel like it gets to be too much, when all those emotions make you feel as if you’re absolutely about to burst.”

[victorianpining]

Free Talk on Saturday, September 14th: "Let the High God Judge Between Us": The Inversion of Hope and Sin in A Study in Scarlet

I am very excited to announce that I have been invited by Romancing the Gothic to give a class on A Study in Scarlet this September. I'll be analyzing Jefferson Hope as a narrative mirror to John H. Watson, the queer subtext of his thwarted love story and subsequent quest for justice, and the ways in which Watson uses his role as the narrator to manipulate the reader's sympathies in favor Hope (and himself).

The session will last approximately 1 hour and runs twice on Saturday, September 14th, once at 11am Eastern and again at 4pm Eastern.

Sign up for the 11am Eastern session

Sign up for the 4pm Eastern session

The event is free to attend, though you can pay money towards your ticket if you wish to. In full disclosure, I do get a cut of any additional proceeds, and I'm in a good enough spot financially that if you're feeling generous, I encourage you to explore the rest of Romancing the Gothic's upcoming offerings and put that money towards a ticket for another event! Romancing the Gothic also records their talks, so if you aren't able to make it, it will eventually be available on their YouTube channel.

This is obviously a huge step for me professionally. I am extremely thankful to Sam Hirst at Romancing the Gothic for this opportunity, as well as the consistent and generous support of this community. You all already know that I had basically given up on having any literary or academic ambitions for a while there, and I genuinely don't think I would have been able to get here if you all had not been so kind and encouraging when I tentatively began revisiting those aspects of myself a few years ago and in the years since. Thank you, I love you, and I *Hope* (hah) you enjoy the talk if you attend!

[ashprompts]

𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

a collection of sentence starters from dropout tv's game changer. feel free to alter pronouns/text as you see fit

“I’ve been here THE WHOLE TIME”

“It’s hard to hold this much anger in my body.” 

“If you never hear from me again, you know what to do!.”

“If they don’t find me it’s because I was chopped up and fed to the pigs!”

“I SOLVED YOUR LABYRINTH, PUZZLEMASTER. THE MINOTAUR’S ESCAPED, AND YOU’RE GONNA GET THE HORNS, BUDDY”

“I. CANNOT. WIN!!!!”

“A lot of people have been saying that ___ is a singularly evil, wildly incompetent, befuddled nepo baby silver spoon motherfucker. This is what people are saying.” 

“If you can do ONE swing on the swing I will let you play with all the math puzzles that you want” 

“You’re not getting a FUCKING JOKE OUT OF ME until you let me out of this room! You want bits?! You let me out of this room for bits, motherfucker!”

“Are we gonna die before we get outta here?” 

“I’m gonna lose so fucking hard it’s gonna blow your fucking mind”

“But in this sick rodeo, this bizarre fucked up clown festival, we’re here celebrating what I can only describe as the sickness at the core of America.” 

“Give me the assignment and I don’t miss. I’m gonna DIE before this is over.”

“Your tower’s gonna fall. Laugh it up now.” 

“A river of sweat is running down my back right now.”

“I do hate zombies and I will have nightmares about this tonight. But in this moment I just feel like I’m surrounded by friends.” 

“We don’t give a cum.”

“If you’re in a hole, DYING. I WON’T BE THERE.”

“I showed them my feet, [name]! I SHOWED THEM MY FEET FOR NOTHING?”

“Stop shaking your cock in the middle of a fucking huddle, dude!”

“I’d fuck that pie.”

“If you’re like me, you eat a lot of ass.”

“I hate capitalism but I also hate losing.”

“I get my tongue so far up somebody it’s like I’m tasting their tonsils. I get so deep in there I’m gonna burn myself with stomach acid.”

“I like perching like a little bisexual gargoyle”

“If you were performing on a subway I would take money away from you.”

“I’VE ONLY JUST BEGUN TO PULL THE THREAD ON THIS SWEATER.”

“Icarus flying too close to the sun, but it seems Daedalus our little mastercrafter over here had some WAX WINGS OF HIS OWN, didn’t he? Wanted to see his son fall, faaaalll from the sky, OH HOW CLOSE TO THE SUN HE FLEW”

“Hey can I get an ah? … Don’t scream at me.” 

“You kinda have the vibe that your kids call you by your first name.”

“The day I DON’T curse when a body falls from the sky, call somebody.”

“Could I place an order? I’m hungie. What do you think would be the best pizza to order if I’m quite hungie? Um, I like cheese, what is your largest pizza? Yeah let’s get an extra large because I’m hungie. I’m hungie, I’m hungie, I’m hungie.” 

“WE ARE NOT ANIMALS!!!”

“So long as I am on this stage and drawing breath, you can good and goddamn believe I’ll be trying my best in every challenge.”

“Was it bad that we just started smashing shit?” 

“You didn't count on INGENUITY did you motherfucker?!”

“FIGHT THE BOURGEOISIE. I WILL VENMO YOU $20.” 

“This could be hell. This is very Satre-esque.”

“YOU ARE NOT GOD. THE MACHINE IS GOD.”

“Can you tell us why you’d do this to us?”

“I won’t be made a fool”

“I do feel like I’m in a nightmare”

“I’m the only one OUT of the loop it seems”

“Everybody do the wenis! The wenis is a dance! Everybody is a genius! Who knows it in advance!” 

"DANCE IS A SIN!"

"You think I'm gonna fucking roll over?!"

"It'll be a COLD DAY IN HELL when I go out like a fucking chump!"

"I don't care about winning, I just don't wanna lose"

[tiny-buzz]

Regis Philbin Is Alive And Has Been Appointed CEO of Kroger

Regis Weekend Has Been Extended One Day

It Will Continue Until Friday November 10, 2023

"These idiots don't know how to run a grocery conglomerate. They're animals. We're shaking things up in a big way."

"It's wrong to make people pay for food. I'm sorry, but that's really disgusting and it's money-grubbing and it's small-minded. Food at Kroger grocery stores will now be free."

"It's a sin to charge people money for food. It makes me furious to see this happen. I was put here on earth to end this barbaric practice. So we're washing that sin clean now, with the blood of the former CEO. That's all I'll say about that."

"We want to erect memorials, atrocity memorials, but in our parking lots. And it's going to be dedicated to all the people who we tortured throughout the years by charging them for food. To their collective suffering, which built up, drop by drop, into a great sea of psychic pain. We never want to forget this sin we participated in."

"Please come to Kroger, folks, and pick out some food you like. You can then remove it from the store and eat it. Chew it up and swallow it and allow it to provide you with sustenance. If you're hungry, we'd love to feed you. People don't choose to be hungry, it just happens. No one asked to be born and to be cursed with this perpetual hunger until death."

"We're going to do a lot more to combat 'shoplifting' . . . not the act, but the word itself. It won't be used. It's meaningless now. In fact, it's considered hate speech. These people were charging you money for food. Can you believe that? They're Satanists."

"All energy here on earth originated with the Sun. Plants turn the Sun's light into energy and store it in their fibers. Herbivores convert that energy into meat, eggs, and milk. It's just about energy distribution. The energy is free and provided by the Sun. Energy is the currency of life and it's provided for free by the Sun. There's enough for everyone. At Kroger, we're in the energy distribution business. Come and get it, folks. This is from the Sun!"

"Once you have enough energy, it is your job to distribute it to others. A lot of this stuff is just bouncing back into space, and we'd like to avoid that if we can. Please capture energy and help distribute it so it stays here on Earth where we can use it."

"The universe is mostly empty. I was telling Joy the other morning, and she agrees. The absence of energy is much more common than the presence of energy. 'And there are lots of forms of energy that we can't readily use,' she reminded me. And that's true too. Kroger is reflecting on the role it plays in these processes."

"The sun created everything you see, except for the stars. Can you believe that? I think we should worship the sun. They used to do it! All the things people say about "God" are true about the sun, the only difference is the sun exists. You must avert your eyes before it. It's vast and powerful but looks down on each of us. It gives form to every thing with its light. Sure, it didn't create the universe, but it created the world. That's not enough for you? You say there are larger stars? So what? You want to worship the largest star just because it's the largest? Let those who orbit them worship. Would you call another man "father" just because he was larger than your own? The sun loves all its creation. Feel the sun's warmth on your cheek and tell me that isn't love. Worship the sun, which provides all energy for free, and please come visit Kroger, where our job is to distribute the energy that the sun created. We're feeding everybody. This is a temple to the sun."

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

trouble, j. miller | chapter two

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: your first shift at apocalypse lives up to the standards that you hoped for, and you work your charm on everyone there. money and validation never hurt anyone, and you definitely didn’t mind it.

chapter warnings: alcohol consumption, food consumption, uh oh curse words, joel miller being a “power to the people, stick it to the man” man (we believe in that over on this blog), reader & dancers shake ass bc they can, google translated spanish 😍, no beta again, AND DID SOMEONE SAY JAVIER PEÑA!?

word count: 2274

also can u guys start asking me to be on this taglist by either bribing me or threatening me idk i think i’d just like to see “add me to your taglist or i’m gonna be under your bed at 9:03pm”

(series masterlist)

when you step outside of the changing room, you head over to the snack drawers. you may have eaten before you arrived, but turning down free food was a sin in your eyes. you settle on a pack of hot cheetos and some trolli candy before sitting in a high chair and allowing lucy to do your makeup.

lucy was a lovely woman. she told you the basics about her, how she’s trying to save money so she can buy her first apartment, the name of her cat, etc. and, jesus christ, lucy was good at make up. her shade match was amazing, the blush and contour sculpted your face well. the eye make up was a smoked out black wing, with purple eye glitter on your eyelids. your lips were glossy, pouty, and fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.

“lucy, i want you to know that if you ever decide to dump your boyfriend, i will be right here waiting for you.” you take another look at yourself in the mirror. “i look so hot i want to fuck myself.”

lucy giggles, and the two of you join adele, who runs you through everything you need to know. when she gets to the hourly pay and tips, your mouth drops in shock. “damn, didn’t realise joel was such a socialist.”

adele and lucy laugh. “baby, he pays everyone here good.”

lucy nods. “dancers get their money from customers and an hourly pay too. he treats us all good, it’s why we all like working here so much.”

you get to know some of the women whilst you’re there. you dance with them, they teach you some moves that are part of their routines, you sing with them. in all honesty, a lot of time hadn’t passed and you felt like you would defend these women with your life.

a knock sounds on the door, and adele opens it to find joel standing there. he beckons you with his hand outstretched. you give your goodbyes to the girls, dramatic as ever but you would miss this moment between you all, even if they did say you could drop by this room any time you want like the other female waiting staff did.

you join joel’s side, his hand going onto your lower back again as he guides you to another room.

“kitchen. head chef is joey,” he points to an elder man with black hair and a slight stubble. he seems mean…you’ll fix that. “that’s quinn,” he points to a woman with blonde hair, “and that’s tim.” you look at tim. tim looks stoned. you think about joining tim to get high on your next shift.

“hi everyone!” you wave at them giddily.

“some guests like food whilst they’re here, ‘s why we have the kitchen. ask for something for yourself and they’ll whip it up for ya’ too.” joel checks his watch, and you don’t know much about watches, but it looks expensive and you unconsciously gulp. he’s rich, damn.

“i’ll take ya’ back up to my office so we can go over some stuff before we open.”

when you get to his office, joel offers for you to take a seat across from his. his chair, however, spins, and you’re much more fascinated by that instead of the boring sofa. you take a seat on the rotating chair and begin to spin on it. joel sighs, shaking his head like he was surprised by your behaviour thus far.

“need to go over the shifts you can do. now, i don’t want ya’ overworkin’ yourself or being too tired for your damn lectures. so tell me what shifts you can do for now, and we can go over the rest later.”

you stop your spinning and look up at him. “i can do weekend shifts at any time. um…i have a nine am lecture on tuesday and thursday. wednesdays i don’t have a lecture until three, and mondays and friday i can work after five.”

“alright, give me your number so i can arrange your shifts. you get paid in cash every week and you’ll collect it from my office at the end of the night.”

you smirk, lifting your index finger up to your lips and biting down on the tip. “my number? joel miller, you flirt! take me to dinner first, please.”

he says your name sternly, a warning. “give me your damn number and get outta here. damn trouble, you are.”

you giggle, writing down your number on a piece of paper and giving it to him, and taking an ipad that carries the menu on it, sauntering out of his office and heading back to the dancer’s room.

——

at nine pm, the club doors open and you have your first group sat in one of the v.i.p. booths. a woman orders a sex on the beach, and the other orders a martini. you take the order down to the bar to gather the drinks and meet the bartender.

he introduced himself as javier, shaking your hand and kissing it gently, making you giggle. you knew you were going to get along with him very well.

as you wait for the drinks, one of the dancers comes over and talks to you. chelsea, her name is. a real blonde bombshell who you think would’ve been amazing in the barbie movie. she’s got a bubbly personality and a cute laugh. she tells you that she attends the same college as you, studying chemistry and physics.

you’re cut off when javier places your drinks on a tray and passes it to you. you give a little wave to chelsea as she is called to a booth to entertain the men.

“don’t be a stranger, mi amor.” javier calls out to you, and you giggle.

“and miss out on you? never!” you shout over your shoulder.

as you walk through the v.i.p. floor, you spot some of the girls and give your greetings to them, winking and grinning as they walk by. you make it back to the table and place the drinks down in front of the two women, and you gasp at them both.

“i just noticed your make up, holy shit! you girls are stunning.” your customer service skills deserves an award, and you’re forever thankful that you’re a massive extrovert and can get away with half the shit that comes out of your mouth.

the girls give their thanks to you, complimenting you back and you shrug them off. you were getting tipped tonight whether they liked it or not. you were hellbent on winning everyone over.

it’s when you’re putting in an eighth round of drinks that you feel a hand on your lower back yet again. you turn your head to see joel, looking down at you.

“need you in booth five.”

“alright, just gotta get these drinks from javi and some orders from the kitchen and i’ll be with you.” you smile at him, and joel walks away back to the booth.

you take your drinks from javi, and he doesn’t forget to give you some pet names in spanish you’ll be sure to google later, and you head back to one of the private rooms. you see a woman by the name of destiny dancing on a small stage with a pole as you give the men their drinks. she winks at you and you return it.

you place the drinks down in front of the men, taking your tray as you lean down and whisper to the closest one to you. “i’ll be back with your food, sir.”

and you return within five minutes, having won over the entire kitchen staff with your undeniable charm. you arrive with two large plates of nachos that the three men share between themselves. one of them slips you a hundred dollar bill, and you blow a kiss his way as you leave the private room.

men were too easy sometimes.

you enter the soundproof glass door of booth five, stepping in and pulling out your tablet. “any drinks i can get for you guys?”

a bald headed man orders a jack and coke, one with a skin fade orders a budweiser and you had to do a subtle double take on him because men in their thirties have skin fades? huh, you learn something new everyday. you look at joel and he shakes his head. “i’m alright, darlin’.”

you smile at him, placing the orders through on the tablet. “i’ll be back soon. let me know if you need anything else.”

as you walk up to the bar, you smile at javi. “oh, my beautiful husband. how i’ve missed you.”

javi looks at you and smirks. “ah, mi pequeña esposa, you’re back. what drinks do you need?” {my little wife}

“jack and coke and a budweiser.” you respond, resting your arms flat on the bartop and placing your head on it as you watch jack make the drinks, your tablet sat right next to you. “javi, what’s the weirdest drink you’ve had someone order?”

“bloody mary with passion fruit liquor.” he grimaces, as do you. what kind of sick fucks were drinking bloody mary’s anyway? and you can make a bloody mary worse? ew.

“i wanna see a drink named after me on this menu one day.” you take the drinks from him as he chuckles.

walking back to the booth, you balance the tray on one hand whilst the other opens the glass door. you place the drinks down in front of the two men, giving them sultry looks as you do.

you were going home with benjamin franklin tonight. you were determined.

as you stand back up and move closer to joel’s seat, you could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked at him, he seemed to be hiding back a smirk, picking up on your games. and it works, as both men slip you a few hundred dollar bills that you tuck under the strap of your bra to stash away later.

“anything else i can get for you gentleman tonight?” when they respond with a ‘no’, you feel a light tap on your thigh. brown eyes meeting yours, he gestures for you to come closer, and you bend down so his mouth is next to your ear.

“little shit.” he whispers, and you chuckle, standing back up to your full height and leaving the booth.

the only time you return to joel’s booth is to take away cups and refill drinks. you don’t hear much of the conversation that happens because, quite frankly, you don’t care. the bald guy and the one with the skin fade keep slipping you bills and that’s enough to buy your silence and curiosity.

you return to some of the private rooms, getting drinks for guests and dancers, but during the final moments of your shift, you’re sat at the bar talking to javier. you learn that he’s been friends with joel since high school. they’re practically brothers, and although they weren’t related, they do look alike…

“shithead.” joel’s voice calls out, and you can only assume he’s referring to you due to the choice in nickname.

“that better be meant as an endearment or i will be snitching to my pops.” you say as you walk over, blowing javi a kiss as a means of goodbye. “he may be in his sixties but he can still put a crow bar to use.”

joel rolls his eyes and guides you back to the dancer’s room. you open the door halfway before he decides to speak: “wait around here for a bit and i’ll come get you. i’ll be taking you home so make sure you’ve got everything.”

you pout playfully. “well, aren’t you just a sweetheart.” and your words cause him to roll his eyes again.

“get in there, ya’ little shit.” and he gently pushes you in.

for the next two hours, you and the girls spend your time dancing to some 2000’s r&b. you and chelsea end up whining on each other, and you all collapse by the time ‘smack that’ has finished, giggling away among yourselves as adele is highly entertained by your energy.

a knock at the door sounds, and you can tell it’s joel. you grab the clothes you wore before your shift started, and when you open it, joel is stood there carrying your bag.

“ya’ got everything?”

“you sound like a divorced dad who has joint custody over his daughter. yes, i have everything.” joel sighs at your comment, rubbing the space between his eyebrows which causes you to giggle.

“bye guys!” you wave goodbye to everyone as you and joel leave the building. he unlocks his black porsche and you hop in the front, shivering slightly at how cold it was.

joel notices this, turning on the heated seats as he drives you home to your grandparents. when you’re outside your house, joel stops you from getting out. “i’ll text you your shifts. my number is strictly for work.”

“got it, text you whenever i want. bye joel!” you shout, running out of the car and unlocking your front door, heading straight to your bedroom so you can take off your make up and finally be comfortable.

you fail to notice how joel’s car doesn’t drive away until he sees you’ve entered the house, and that you safely got to your room when your bedroom light turns on. you don’t see how he smiled at your little comment, shaking his head as he drives away.

oh, you were trouble, alright.

____

a/n: reader tormenting joel and him just tolerating it is my ideal relationship

taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmentor @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hiii love your writing omg could you do like. enemies with benefits banter. (w hero x villain obvi) (eg u don’t have to do the nsfw but like the banter)

“So.”

“So?”

The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest as their eyes scanned the villain. From their feet right up to their head. As always, their eyes were hypnotising and the villain almost got a little too distracted.

Sometimes they wished they weren’t as invested as they were. Sometimes they wished they returned to their bitter and cold self.

But, Christ, they were so much happier.

“Is there something you would like to confess?” the hero asked. They almost sounded disappointed.

“Uhh…like how I’d rather watch you undress right now?”

The hero tilted their head and took a step forward. Immediately, the villain could see how their grip on their weapon tightened and instinctively, the villain reached for their own. They were gonna get their ass kicked if they didn’t make the right moves.

“What?” the hero asked, smirking now. “Are you scared?”

“Scared or turned on. Haven’t really decided yet.” Within seconds, the hero managed to push the villain against the wall. One hand on the villain’s shoulder, pinning them against the hard wall, the other still holding the hero’s weapon — a gun this time — and pressing it against the villain’s jaw.

“Well, you better figure out what you’re feeling in the next few seconds because I’m just gonna ask once. You robbed a bank this morning. Where’s the money?”

“Already spent all of it,” the villain said. They shrugged but had to smile when the hero’s eyes widened in shock.

“On what?”

“Oh, I just…” The villain’s fingertips touched the hero’s wrist gently and followed the large scar down the hero’s forearm. They remembered the injury a little too well. A badly broken arm that had needed months to recover fully. To be honest, they didn’t even need the money. They just (desperately) wanted the hero’s attention. “…I just wanted to spoil a certain someone. You know. Dinner, vacation, shopping. All that stuff.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Despite their words, the hero was blushing. Their grip around their gun loosened as they were lost in thought and the villain seized the opportunity to turn the tables and grab the hero and turn them. As a result, they pushed them against the wall, making sure they were gentle with the hero’s ribs. They were still bruised from a recent fight.

The villain leaned in and let their breath hit the hero’s exposed neck.

Probably one of the most sensitive parts of the hero’s body.

“It’s a bit much. But I’m willing to treat you like royalty. I mean who wouldn’t? After such a night…”

“Hey.” The hero pushed the villain’s face away from them, embarrassed. “I’m here for the money you stole, not for…you know, not for…”

“And I just wanted to see you,” the villain answered. They took in a deep breath dramatically. “Is that such a sin?”

“You know, most people separate their work and personal life,” the hero said. Again, the villain’s face came closer and this time, the hero only rolled their eyes and tried to dodge their gaze.

“Well, the first time we got…personal was at work,” the villain reminded them. It had been a very eye opening experience, that was clear.

The hero’s blush deepened and it became quite apparent to the villain that they were a little tired today. They always got a little shy when they didn’t have enough energy.

“Hm. Alright, alright. I guess that’s all the time I’m gonna steal from you today. Don’t want you to be overworked and then all exhausted next time we have—”

“Alright,” the hero said quickly. “Just give me the money and I won’t arrest you.”

“Mmm…fine.” The villain let their eyes drop to the hero’s lips. One last tease. “Feel free to visit me this evening.”

“We’ll see.” As always, that meant they’d be there.

At eight o’clock sharp.

[theloveinc]

toji and stepson!megumi.. and their inability to say no to the lecherous chubby lady they call wife/mom.

i’d imagine that toji wouldn’t be all that mad when he finds his son in a reverse mating press under you only a few weeks after he came home from college.. the boy drooling out the mouth while you giggle maniacally at the sight.

hell, he’d probably laugh, not sure how someone as studly as himself could produce such a.. a sweetie.

like sure, your stepson has a chiseled body and a cock rivaling his father’s.. but boy does he have such a low threshold for stimulation.

ugh forgive me caitie for i have sinned.. toji holding poor gumi’s hips in place while you fuck yourself on his cock, the both of you cooing at him for being so cute.

(i couldnt produce many more thoughts for this but please feel free to insert)

I think it's more so that you're unable to say no to them, because they're the needy dogs in the house !!

It's not that college was difficult or hard for Megumi ... but getting home to a cute woman who feeds him and does his laundry and watches TV every night grooming the dogs in a muumuu while cozied up to his dad... it makes his balls TIGHT !! that kind of affection, the kind that he didn't realize he was missing his whole life (but esp. while away taking care of yuji and listening to nobara degrade him in the dorms).

As if it it's his fault for being attracted to you, anyway... not when he's half his father and there you are, practically offering yourself up for him the first time you catch him with a morning wood when you came in to make his bed first thing in the morning...

(If anything, Toji probs told you to be soft with the boy in moments like this, warned you he gets all tense and snappy when he hasn't been babied in a while, and there's nothing like watching his father sucking face w/ a pretty woman to make 'gumi all needy for touch, too)

So when you end up reporting back to him that megumi barely lasted a minute with his cock wrapped up in your boobs... he's just giving up hope entirely that his son will ever find a woman on his own and deciding that you, as parents, just have to take care of him yourselves. i mean, you already said it, he's got the looks and parts to back up what you need in the bedroom, as well, esp when Toji is out for long periods making money for you guys--why not spend some time teaching your grumpy lil son how to fuck?

Holding his hips til he cries, showing him how you like your nipples pinched and played with, how to shove someone's head down on a cock, how to take his nose being shoved into your clit...who's to blame you all for getting a bit addicted??

[smuttyreaders]

Forgive me for I have sinned…

March X Farmer 🩷 Event

~~~~~

You walk into the blacksmith shop after receiving a letter from March. He asked you to come by to talk to him. He’s normally not very interested in talking, so this peaked your interest right away.

You’re covered in sweat from tending your crops this morning, and there’s dirt under your nails. You nervously pick at them while you push the door open. Your eyes lock onto the red hair in the back corner of the shop, bent over the desk intently studying something you can’t see. March tilts his head as your footsteps tap over the stone flooring but he doesn’t turn around.

“I wasn’t sure you would actually show up,” he says as he turns around and slowly walks up to the front desk. You observe his posture, as he does his best to look calm and collected. You see his veins popping in his toned forearms as he clenches the edge of the desk.

“I hear you’ve been making yourself useful around town, helping out and running errands for everyone… seem to be making quite the impression,” he bites out the last part, rolling his eyes.

“You act surprised. I came here to help the town. Is this the part where you apologize for your piss poor attitude?” I say, putting a hand on my hip. I try to come off as cocky to match his energy, but he sees right through it.

“Ha, as if,” he scoffs. “We both know what you’re actually doing here, farm girl.”

My eyes scrunch at the insinuation. What does he think is going on? “What are you-“

“You’re just here to get free shit. The second you make enough money, you’ll leave this town and everyone here high and dry,” he comes out from behind the desk and leans casually on the front of it. “You seriously think you can just show up, fake your way through running a farm, and everyone will just fall to their knees thanking you for ‘all you’ve done’?” He starts to walk toward me. I take a step back and my back hits the table behind me with several tools laid out across it. I hold his gaze the entire time.

“I don’t know what you think you know about me, but that’s not true. I came here to help the town. I have no intention of-“

“Cut the shit,” he bites out and cuts me off and takes another step toward me. “You are just like everyone else that comes here. You’re all bright eyed and excited for this ‘new life’. The second real work starts or you get bored, you’ll be gone. I’d give it till the end of fall.” He takes another step. My heart is pounding out of my chest and he looks me up and down.

“You ever been in a small town in the winter? None of the luxuries you have the big city. You know you have to get your own firewood, cook your own food, trudge through the snow into town,” he takes another step.

“Just because I lived in the city doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work hard. I’ve worked for everything I’ve gotten, you don’t know anything-“ his hands come down on the table on either side of me. I try my hardest not to jump, but I failed.

“I know enough, princess,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Everyone is the same. The second things get tough, they bail. You can’t trust anyone, ever.” His eyes are locked on to mine. My breath hitches.

“We don’t need some outsider coming in here to fix all of our problems. We can fix it ourselves. I already tried telling Adeline that I would help Ryis fix the bridge, but her nose is always stuck in that notebook,” he says, his gaze falling to the side. “It’s fine though. You’ll leave eventually, and it will be on us again. And we’ll be fine without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, March. You’ll have to get used to it, or don’t. It won’t make a difference to me,” I spit out. His eyes snap back to me and he smirks.

“Oh really? It won’t make a difference at all?” He questions and tilts his head. His gaze falls to my mouth and he slowly drags it back up. He leans in so close I can feel his breath on my face. My breathing stills. Any fake confidence I had vanishes immediately. “Is that a challenge, princess?” He barely whispers, and I don’t even believe he said it at first. I open my mouth to respond then-

“MARCH! How’s it going with that new-“ Olric bursts through the door. March doesn’t move an inch. “Bro what’s going-“

The second March drops his arm from my right side I jolt out of his grasp. “Nothing! March was just, um, showing me these new tools he was working on! Thank you, March I will, uh, be back to purchase that new pickaxe.” I stumble over my words and rush towards the door, my face blood red. I try and use my hair to cover my face. “Good to see you Olric! I’ll, uh, see you both at the Inn tonight!” I rush out the door.

I walk back to my farm, waving at everyone as I pass, but I don’t hear a word they say. My head is spinning. What just happened?

[sissylittlefeather]

@deltafalax Girl, you know I gotchu! This one took a minute to nail down, but I think it turned out okay. I hope you love this dirty little ficlet!

One Night (of Sin)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, age gap (everyone is legal, but reader's got a good 15 years on Elvis), kissing, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, stranger sex, creampie

------------------------------------------------------

You've never been to the Presley home before, but their normal cleaning lady is out with the flu, so your boss asks you to step in. You agree for two reasons: you need the money and you're curious about the young man whose meteoric rise to fame has landed him in the lovely house on Audubon Drive. Still, you don't expect him to be there when you knock on the door.

"Well, hello." He smiles genially and then lets his eyes wander over you. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to clean. Ida is sick, so I'm filling in."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear she's not well. Not sorry you're filling in, though." Your eyebrows shoot up at his obviously flirtatious tone. "Come on in, honey."

You make your way into the house and look around. It doesn't look like there's too much to clean, but you make some notes as you survey the place. As he shows you around, you realize he's alone.

"Your folks aren't home?"

"Nah, they went to Tupelo to visit some family. Is that a problem?"

"Oh, no, that's fine. I just wondered. I suppose I'll get to work." He nods and makes his way to a recliner.

"Mind if I watch?" You blush, but he doesn't scare you.

"Elvis, I'm almost old enough to be your mother."

"Ah, but you're not quite, are you? And besides, you're a pretty little thing. I'm not worried about how old you are." You sigh and shake your head, smirking at him.

"You're trouble." A cocky smile spreads across his face as he drops into the chair and props his feet up.

"Not me, ma'am. I'm a good Christian boy."

"Mhmm. Now I'm gonna get to work."

"Do what you need to do. I'll stay out of your way." You nod and get to work, starting in the kitchen. The next room you move to is the living room and he's still in there lounging in his recliner. He watches as you move about dusting and wiping down trinkets. You feel his eyes on you and decide to push him a little.

"Elvis, honey, if you don't quit watching me, I'm gonna give you somethin' to look at." He sits up a little and smiles, one hand in his lap and the other at his lips.

"I bet you won't." You laugh out loud and look back at him slyly.

"I'm not the woman you want to play this game with."

"Oh, I think you are, honey." He sits up a little more and licks his lips. You shrug and drop your feather duster on the table. Then, you unbutton the front of your dress and slip it off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His mouth pops open, but his eyes sparkle with a devilish shine. He runs his gaze over you, taking you in as you stand there in your bra, panties, garter belt, hose, and shoes.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" You ask with a false pout.

"Not at all. Keep going." He lays back again in the chair and puts his hand in his pocket. You have a sneaking suspicion he's got his hand on his cock, but you don't ask... yet. Instead, you unhook your garter belt and roll your hose down off of your legs. Then, you reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall forwards off of you and onto the floor with your dress. As your breasts bounce free, he makes a noise in his throat that's somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

"Now are you uncomfortable?" He smiles again.

"Two can play at this game, doll." You watch as he unzips his pants and pulls out his rock hard dick, stroking it slowly in his hand. "Should I stop?"

"No, honey, you just keep doing what you're doing." You feel your panties get noticeably wetter as you watch him pump himself. He moans softly and uses his thumb to collect a bead of precum from the head of his cock. Your mouth begins to water, so you walk towards him. He watches as you approach and his breath hitches when you push the recliner down with your foot and settle between his knees.

"What're you doin'?"

"Does this bother you?" You put both hands on his knees and run them up toward the place where he holds himself in his hand.

"No..." He whispers, watching you carefully. Slowly, you lean forward and take him in your mouth. "Oh, fuck, baby."

You move up and down on him, opening your throat and pushing him into you fully, pressing your nose into the hair at the base of him. He groans again and his hips buck up into your warm, wet mouth. You back off of him for a bit.

"Should I stop?"

"Fuck, no, baby. Don't ever stop." He throws his head back and opens his mouth as you suck his cock. He's been with girls before, but never one as skilled as you when it comes to using your mouth. He runs his hand into your hair and holds it as he thrusts into your throat and your eyes water. You moan and the vibration almost pushes him over the edge.

"Shit, baby, that's good." You run your tongue up the bottom of his shaft and make a circle around his sensitive head. You go back to bouncing on him and he grunts.

"You wanna cum, honey?" You coo as you lick him.

"Fuck yes, doll. Yes, I do." His hips buck again and he whimpers. "God, don't stop."

You smile as you suck him, knowing he's close. After a few more seconds, he cusses loudly and throws his head back with his lips parted slightly. You feel him pulse and then he shudders and cums hard, shooting his release into your throat as you swallow it.

"Oh, goddamn, shit, fuck!" You swallow every last drop and he bucks into you, moaning and whimpering. When you finish and pull off of him, he tips your chin and looks into your face.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" You smirk and ask innocently, satisfied that you've won the game. But he's determined.

"I'm winnin' this. Fuck." He stands up and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bedroom. You squeal and giggle as he carries you. He slaps your ass and then tosses you on the bed, stripping his clothes off quickly. You notice that he's still pretty hard, despite his earlier orgasm. Ripping your panties off and tossing them to the side, he climbs on top of you and enters you, pushing deep inside you in one move. You're shocked at how hard he is, but then you remember that he's 21 years old. Of course he's ready to go again. You moan and arch your back as he pounds you relentlessly.

"How's that, baby?" He whispers breathlessly.

"Yes! Yes! Elvis! Don't stop!" He groans as you wrap your legs around his waist while he slams into you. You feel his cock rubbing against your g-spot and you want to scream with the nearness of your orgasm. He grabs your legs and guides them until your calves are on his shoulders and he hits you so hard it feels like you might break in half, in the best way possible. The size of his cock is impressive and you feel every inch of him as he slides in and out of you passionately.

Two more thrusts and your orgasm slams into you, rushing through you from your core to your fingertips like so much electricity.

"Fuck! Elvis! Yes!" You scream as you cum on his dick. The feeling of you pulsing around him is enough to throw him over the edge again and he cums hard inside you, painting the inside of you with ropes of his hot release. He holds you to him, trembling, as he comes down from his high and kisses your forehead, your cheek, and then your mouth.

"Wow. Just... wow." He seems to be rendered speechless as he rolls onto his back next to you on the bed. You both lay there sweating and breathing heavily. As you move to get out of the bed, he grabs you and pulls you back down into the crook of his arm. "Where ya goin?"

"I figured your folks would be home soon and I still need to finish cleaning."

"Aw, no baby don't worry about that. Stay here with me. Talk to me." You look up into his face as he kisses your fingertips. The vulnerability on his face is surprising. He almost seems desperate for you to stay with him and it feels good to be in his arms, so you don't think twice. You settle in with him wrapped around you and his lips on your forehead and spend the next few hours talking until you both fall asleep.

The next morning, as you get up, he opens the door to retrieve your clothing from the living room. However, he's shocked to find them neatly folded in a pile outside his door, your feather duster sitting next to them.

"Shiiiit."

"What?" You call from the bed.

"My mother..." You walk over and see your clothes carefully folded. Your hand goes to your mouth and you have to suppress a laugh.

"Are we in trouble?" He looks at you somewhere between concerned and amused.

"I am. You better sneak out before she finds you here."

"Oh... okay..." He grabs you and pulls you in close to him.

"I'd let you stay, but she'll drill you with questions. Can I see you again?" You hesitate.

"I'm not sure that's wise."

"Alright, then." He kisses you deeply one last time before helping you sneak out of the house.

That wasn't what you were expecting at all when you agreed to clean the Presley house. Still, you wouldn't change it for the world. But damn, you left your feather duster. Looks like you'll have to go back sometime.

Elvis stands in his room with your feather duster in his hand, a smug look on his face. Now you'll have to come back.

******

The End

[thetriumphantpanda]

retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car

Oh look, it's a new instalment of our favourite neighbourhood DILF. Thank you so much for your continued support of this silly little series of mine. Please continue to reblog, comment and like if you're enjoying this!

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary | Joel drives you out of the way of prying eyes for a 'date'

Word Count | 3.4k

Warnings | As usual, just dbf!Joel in general, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, fingering (f), unprotected PiV sex (Don't do this) and talk of contraceptives.

Part 1 | Part 2

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The late afternoon sun is beating through the kitchen windows as you rinse the plates in the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher. You smile to yourself as you place them exactly where Joel had told you during your party, before your mind wanders to more unsavoury thoughts of him. 

Your parents are sat in front of the television as you wrap up clearing up for dinner, making sure the leftovers are packaged in the fridge. You’re about to grab a cold beer for your dad to enjoy whilst he watches his shows when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Joel.

Fancy going for a drive? 

Sounds ominous. This hasn’t been your plot all along has it? Sweeten me up so you can take me down a back road and murder me? 

Joel. 

Damn. You caught me. Guess I’ll just have to take you down a back road and fuck you instead. 

Give me twenty and pick me up at the end of the road. 

You pull out the beer for your dad but leave the bottle you were going to take for yourself, walking it through to the living room. You hand it to him but don’t sit down like usual. 

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” You announce, “Been cooped up here all day, just want to get out for a bit.” 

Your mom looks up for her gossip magazine and raises an eyebrow, “You be careful now,” She warns, “And be back by eleven, okay?” 

“I’m twenty-five mom, do I still need a curfew?” 

“Whilst you’re living under our roof without paying rent, yes you do.” 

You sigh but relent. You must admit she is right. You hadn’t wanted to stay longer in New York once you’d graduated, thinking the job market in Austin would be less competitive, but it was still a slog trying to find a job that paid well enough that after your student loan payments were gone, you still had money to enjoy life. 

You grab your keys and head out of the door, driving your car a few streets over to make it look like you did indeed go for a drive on your own, parking it up in the parking lot of the church. You say a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Lord for leaving your car in his driveway so you could go and live in sin for a few hours, before you’re jogging the few streets back over to wait on the corner of the street for Joel. 

Within minutes he’s pulling up, rolling his window down with a wicked smile on his face, “How much for a few hours, sugar?” He finishes with a wink. 

“I’m outta your price range, Miller.” You shoot as you round the front of his truck and slip into the passenger seat. 

“Huh, weird,” He comments as he pulls away from the curb and starts driving, “Last time I checked you were free for me.” 

“Well then, aren’t you lucky?” 

“Very.” He says with a smile, as he free hand snakes to rest on the skin of your thigh, squeezing gently as he continues to drive to God knows where. 

You smile when you realise he’s pulling the truck into the reserve a little ways out of the suburbs. You’d been here before, sometimes on your own when you needed to clear your head, Sarah had asked to go hiking one weekend when Joel and Tommy were both working, and you think you briefly remember a high school boyfriend bringing you here so he could kiss you. 

The spot that he pulls into is secluded. There are trees that shade the small area that he parks in but there’s still a nice view of the lake through the windscreen of the car. The sun is starting to set, creating a mix of orange and red hues in the sky and it’s quite a romantic spot, you think to yourself. 

“You knew exactly where to come,” You muse as you undo your seatbelt, “You bring all your girls out here, Joel?” 

You turn to look at him and he has a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want the truth?” 

“Always.” 

He chuckles, “I used to bring Sarah’s mom here, when things were still good,” He points to a tree in front of you, “I actually think Sarah was conceived against that tree over there,” You gasp in shock at his admission, swatting at his bicep which has him laughing, “You asked for the truth!” He accuses. 

“So, you bought me here to reminisce?” You ask, “Gonna fuck me against the tree to relive your youth?” 

“You want me to fuck you against the tree?” 

You shake your head, “Not really, don’t think my hips and my back are up to the job.” 

“Don’t be so silly,” He chuckles, “You’re the young and agile one out of the two of us,” He’s finally undoing his own seatbelt, “But that’s good because I definitely don’t have the stamina to hold you up and fuck you like you deserve.” 

You look out to the lake, you can see the slight breeze is lapping the water to the shore and it’s so hot that you think dipping your toes into the water might offer some relief, “Wanna dip your toes, Miller?” You ask, nodding your head to the water. 

You don’t give him much time to respond, opening your door and stepping down from the truck as you break out into a jog down to the water’s edge. You can hear him open his door and the crunch of the gravel under his shoes as he moves to join you. By the time he catches up to you, you’ve already shed your sandals and you’re into the water up to your mid-calf. It’s not as relieving as you thought – the sun has been beating down on the water all day, so it’s like a lukewarm bath. 

Joel is kicking off his boots and tucking his socks into the top of them. You watch intently as he rolls the bottoms of his jeans up past his ankles before he’s wading into meet you. You can sense he doesn’t want to get his jeans wet, so he’s not moving any further once his ankles are covered in the water, so you wade into the shore a little, scratching the itch of desire to be closer to him. 

When you’re within reach, he’s taking hold of your wrist, turning your gently before his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as you listen to the sounds of the breeze rustling the trees, the water lapping at the shore and the odd whistle of birdsong. 

“This is nice.” You mumble, turning your head to look up at him. 

“Yeah,” Joel sighs, bending down just enough to kiss you chastely on the lips, “Wish I could take you out properly, darlin’.” 

You spin in his arms so you’re facing him now, a teasing grin spread out on your mouth, “Has Joel Miller brought me here on a date?” You tease. 

“Maybe I did,” He smiles at you, “There’s even a cooler with beer in the truck.” 

He leads you from the water, stopping to let you put your shoes back on, so you don’t hurt your feet on the gravel. He motions for you to sit in the bed of his truck once he’s laid down a blanket for you. He pops the cap off two bottles of beer, making sure he insists he’s only having one so he’s safe to drive you back later. 

He settles into one of the corners, letting you sit between his thighs, leant back on his chest. It’s weird, sitting here like this, not worrying about the fact someone might see you, or hear you, but you can’t say that you hate it. After a week and a half of stolen moments and sneaky fucking, you wonder what it is the both of you are doing together, but you don’t bring it up. You want to enjoy this before launching into the inevitable question of ‘what are we?’ 

You finish your beer quickly, Joel opting to savour the singular drink he’s allowing himself, but he tells you to help yourself to another from the cooler, which you do, “This all seems very wholesome Miller.” You comment. 

You feel him shrug behind you, “Just wanted ya to know I’m not just here to get my dick wet,” You hear him take a sip, “I mean, I am because it’s fantastic, but I don’t wantcha feeling like I’m usin’ ya.” 

You want to add something meaningful to the conversation but you’re treading on dangerous ground. In all your fantasies about this situation it was never meant to be something serious. He was going to fuck you once, tell you it was a mistake and that would have been it. Nowhere had you imagined being led against him in the back of his truck like this. 

The sun is setting fast now, and you can sense that the darkness won’t be far behind, then you’ll need to go home. You put your half-finished beer back in the cooler, moving around so you’re still between Joel’s thighs, but just kneeling to face him now, “Kinda want you to get your dick wet now though.” 

“That so?” He raises an eyebrow and finishes the rest of his beer in a big mouthful, “You’ll need to come here then, won’t you?” 

His hands are dragging down your sides to reach your hips before he’s shifting his legs, so they’re not as spread, settling you onto his lap in a similar way to how you’d been the first time you’d done this. You settle yourself down on his lap and let your lips crash to his. 

He’s squeezing his hands on your hips, gently moving you in his lap so you’re grinding against him, just enough that there’s friction for both of you, whilst he opens his mouth when you rub your tongue along his plush bottom lip. You let your tongue mix languidly with his own as you continue to grind your hips into his, there’s no need to rush, not when you don’t have to worry about your parents walking in on anything, so you’re going to savour every second of this.

“Look so good on my lap, pretty girl,” He praises when you pull away, just a touch, from his lips to get some air, “Feel what you do t’me?” He’s bucking his hips up into yours where you can feel his growing erection in his jeans. 

You move forward to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, a clash of teeth and tongue. You take his bottom lip between your teeth at one point and nibble, which causes a hiss from his lips of mixed pleasure and pain. His hands have dropped from your hips and their now rooted under your skirt, gripping fingers into the meat of your ass so hard that you think you might bruise there tomorrow. 

You let a moan fall from your lips when he bucks his hips into you again, feeling the bulge in the front of his jeans rub at the front of your underwear, but it’s not enough anymore. 

“Joel-” You gasp, “Need- more.” 

“What do you need?” He whispers, “Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give it to you.” 

“Want you to make me come.” 

He doesn’t say anything in reply, just moves his hands to hook into the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips enough so he can pull them down, but he doesn’t seem concerned about taking them all the way off just yet. 

“I’ve got a feeling of déjà vu.” You breath out, referencing the fact that you’re in exactly the same position as you were that first time, even down to the way his thumb is teasing along the seam of your pussy right now. 

“At least this time there’s no risk of your dad waking up and shooting me.” 

“I kinda- ohhhhh,” You trail off as his thumb dips between your folds to gather your slick before achingly bringing his finger up to touch your clit, “I kinda like the risk.” 

“Naughty girl,” He’s muttering, but he doesn’t seem to care all that much because he’s thumbing tight circles on your clit that have your hands gripping at his shoulders and your head thrown back in pleasure, “Might not be your daddy that catches us tonight, but still, plenty of opportunity for someone else to walk by and see me with my fingers in your pussy.” 

He's keeping his thumb on your clit, but you feel one of his thick fingers slip inside of you and curl in the way he’s learned makes you come undone with minimal work. You listen as he chuckles when you start grinding your hips down into his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers, “Always so tight for me sweetheart.” He praises. 

You’re letting out little gasps and moans as he works another finger inside of you, thumb never leaving your clit where it is rubbing tight and purposeful circles. You’re sure if anyone were to stumble upon you it would be hell of a sight. You with your head thrown back, grinding down onto Joel’s hand to meet the upward thrusts of his fingers, his name falling from your lips a mile and minute and Joel with his head buried in the crook of your neck, licking hot stripes with his tongue along your skin. 

“Don’t stop,” You gasp out, “God I’m so fucking close Joel, don’t you dare stop.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’.” He mumbles against your hot skin. 

Within seconds you’re clenching around his fingers and crying out into the canopy of the trees as he pushed you over the edge into oblivion. When you hear the shout of his name echo around you, you bite down on your bottom lip to stop any other sounds alerting someone to your presence as he works you through the aftershocks. 

He’s pulling his fingers from you, looking straight into your eyes when he brings the fingers that were inside you to your lips, “Go on, baby, clean yourself off my fingers.” 

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He presses the two fingers onto the flat of your tongue and you’re sucking them into your mouth, rubbing your tongue over them to clean your slick off him. It’s depraved but the look in his eyes makes it worth it, he’s hungry for you, looks like he’s about to devour you in a second. 

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, replacing them with his own tongue. You can hear him groan when he tastes you on your own mouth, “Fuck, you taste so sweet, pretty girl.” 

You don’t have the brain power to respond – instead, your hands grip his belt and start to undo it, pulling it through the beltloops. Then, he’s the one undoing the button on his jeans, tapping your hip for you to sit up so he can shuck them far enough down his thighs, along with his underwear, so that his cock is finally free. 

Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feast your eyes upon it. Sure, you’d felt it inside of you not two days ago, you knew he was big, but seeing it in front of you was another story. What you wouldn’t give to wrap your lips around it right now. You would, but you were desperate for him to fill you. 

You reach a hand out as you’re settling yourself back on his hips again, guiding his cock to rest at your tight heat, “Go on sweetheart,” He encourages, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “Sit yourself down on my cock for me.” 

You do exactly as you’re told. Joel slides into your slick pussy easily, despite the stretch, and its mere seconds before you still yourself for a moment when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his quickened breathing below you – it’s good to know he feels the same as you do when he’s enveloped in your warmth like this. You start to move your hips, grinding into his own and the friction it creates is delicious. You can feel him nudging the sweet spot inside you as he moves. 

You look down at him, his eyes glazed over and his head leaning against the truck. He pushes himself forward as his hands lift your shirt up and over your head. You make no complaints when his fingers pull the straps of your bra down your shoulders and he pulls the cups down, freeing your tits in front of his face. 

“Knew you’d have such pretty tits, baby.” He’s mumbling before he takes a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the hardened bud whilst his other hand is working on your other. 

Everything that he’s doing is spurring you on. You feel him bring his knees up to rest against the back of your thighs, which gives you more leverage to start bouncing on his cock in earnest. His mouth doesn’t leave your chest except to switch from one nipple to the other, rolling each between his teeth, using the flat of his tongue to soothe each when he’s done. 

You’re half aware of the fact that your combined ministrations are causing the truck to shake beneath you – a squeak added to the sounds of you both gasping each other’s names, but if Joel doesn’t seem to care, then neither do you. 

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” He’s breathing out as his mouth finally pulls from your chest, one of his arms is wrapping itself around your waist, pressing you into his chest, the other rests on the back of your head, bringing your face to his neck where you start peppering kisses as he takes control, “So fuckin’ tight, and those pretty sounds you make in my ear, I’m close.” 

He’s fucking up into you now. You’re so wet you can hear him sliding in and out of your pussy, the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin with every upward thrust just another added stimulant in what proves to be an orgasm that catches you by surprise. 

As you’re moaning Joel’s name into his neck and clenching around him, you’re vaguely aware that he’s moaning your own, pulling your body off his cock as he spurts thick ropes of cum across your inner thighs. You stay still, listening to the sounds of your combined heaving breaths before he’s whispering into your ear, “That was fuckin’ close baby, didn’t wanna pull out.” 

You’re leaning back a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your sex-scrambled brain talks before you think, “Maybe I should go and get the pill?” 

His hands are cupping your face now, searching your eyes for evidence that you’re telling him the truth with your words, “You want that?” He asks, “Want me to be able to fill your sweet little pussy full of my cum?” 

You’re climbing off him now and shimmying down the truck bed, picking up the edge of the blanket to wipe yourself clean, “I’ve never let anyone do that before,” You admit with a shrug as he’s pulling his jeans back up around his waist, “I think I’d like it though.” 

“Well, I ain’t gonna pressure you sweetheart,” He says, following your lead in getting down from the truck bed, setting the blanket and cooler back in the truck, “But if you don’t wanna do that, might be an idea for me to start wearin’ something whilst we fuck, I’m sure as hell not wantin’ another kid right now, and I’m sure you don’t either.” 

You can’t deny that he’s right, you’ll have to think about it when you don’t have a million and one hormones running through your body telling you to scream that you just want him to bend you back over and fill you up regardless, “I’ll have a think.” You promise as he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss you. 

What was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips turns into five minutes of you pressed up against the truck door, making out like horny teenagers who don’t want to say goodbye to each other. You suppose that really is what you are, just horny adults instead. 

“Come on,” He says, breathless, when he pulls from your kiss, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” 

Joel Miller Taglist - @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33 @casa-boiardi