#buy id car online

[briarlily]

Some of y'all have weird ideas about internet safety

[ghouljams]

Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

Rating: E (MDNI) Words: ~11k Tags: Ghost x f!Reader, Dirtbag!Ghost, strangers -> ???, groping, non-con kissing, coerced consent, oral (F!Receiving), fingering, squirting, piv sex, kidnapping? Summary: A stranger online promises he'll make your parents' Christmas hell, and you're eager to take him up on the offer. You may have bitten off more than you can chew.

<Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

[casual encounters]

“I am a 35 year old former SAS operator with no A levels, tattoos, and a motorcycle. I can play anywhere from 30 to 40 depending on if I shave. I’m a line cook and I work late nights at my mate’s bar. If you’d like to have me pretend to be in a long term serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things, at your request:

Openly hit on female guests while you act like you don’t notice

Start instigative discussions about religion and/or politics

Propose to you in front of everyone

Talk at length about my time in the army including what it felt like to kill a man(good or bad your choice)

Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on(don’t drink much these days, but I know the drill)

Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see.

Only pay I want is the free meal and the entertainment.”

-do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers

*

RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?” 

To:SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From:URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Is this offer still open?

*

RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

Depends how far you want me to travel.

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Any chance you’re in the XXXXX area? I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk details.

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxxx.xx

Close enough for a free meal. I’m in XXXX

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Let’s meet at Gallery Eats. Also can you send me an ID or something so I know what you look like?

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

[attachment] [attachment]

Know you birds get jumpy, send it out to your little friends. 

Tuesday 15:30

See you there 

-S

*

He’s already at the shop when you get there, scrolling through his phone with his legs spread wide under the little wooden table, a full-face motorcycle helmet taking up more than half of the tiny tabletop.

You hadn’t realized how big the guy would be. Even sitting down he’s massive. You’d bet money he’s over six foot, and he easily eclipses the little cafe chair he’s settled in. His craigslist ad wasn’t lying when it said “tattoos.” The guy’s arms are covered in swirling black ink, and you follow the line of it up to the dark collar of his shirt where it peaks out to creep up his neck. He’s perfect. Your folks will hate him.

Dark eyes meet yours and a smirk creeps over his face, it tugs at a thin scar bisecting his lips.

He stands, and you bee-line for him.

“Thank god you look like your picture.” You huff, settling your bag on the chair across from him.

“That any way ta greet your man?” He grunts, holding a hand out. “Simon.”

You take his hand with a smile, and feel thick fingers wrap around your own. You glance down at the dark seal on the back of his hand, the carefully inked numbers already fading with age spelling out “141.” 

“So,” He smiles, leaning so far back in his seat that the chair tips, “How mad are we talkin’?”

*

It turns out Simon’s motorcycle isn’t his only mode of transportation. You roll up to your parents house in a half-wrapped muscle car that Simon claims he’s been “working on” and you can almost smell the distaste radiating off of your folks when they peak through the front window. Simon makes a big show of ignoring you while you try to get the oddly shaped Christmas gifts out of the trunk, lighting a cigarette and checking his phone while you struggle. Finally your parents decide to wander out onto their front step, and your father stalks over to take the bulkier gifts from you while Simon eyes him.

You grin at him, already pleased with his grumbling and glaring at Simon. Simon, for his part, offers a, “Sure it ain’t too heavy old man?” That makes a vein on your father’s temple throb angrily. He ambles after you and your father, and makes a show of giving your mom a once over.

“Sweetheart!” Your mother grimace-smiles at you, “Who is this?”

“This is Simon,” You sigh, leaning against Simon with a dopey smile, “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” Your mother grits her teeth, “You didn’t say you were bringing a guest.”

“Oh I know, but you can pull up a chair, right?” You gasp, “We’re not messing up your table are we?”

Your mother’s eye twitches. You know her well enough to know she’s already thinking about people bumping elbows at an overcrowded table. You can almost hear your little cousins complain about the lack of space. You also know she’ll never admit her annoyance in front of a guest.

“Of course not.” She smiles tightly, “The more the merrier.” She turns to Simon. “It’s nice to meet you Simon.”

Simon finally takes his cue, tossing his ashy cigarette onto the stone walkway with a flick of his fingers. He exhales nearly into your mother’s face before seemingly remembering last minute that, that’s rude.

“Nice to meet you,” His eyes flick down to your mother’s chest, “Can see where the bird gets ‘er tits from.”

You could scream with laughter the way your mother’s lips tighten into a thin line and her brows twitch down ever so slightly, the picture of barely contained shock and disgust. You can feel your father fuming on the other side of you.

“Why don’t we put presents down?” You chirp, trying to play at oblivious while Simon leers at your mother. She does her best to subtly cross her arms and tug the neck of her sweater closed. “Simon, do you have a hand to help dad?”

“Course, sweet’eart.” He hums, leaning to kiss your temple. A sweet gesture if he didn’t grab a handful of your ass at the same time, angled precisely so you’re sure your dad can see. “Christ you got a fat ass,” He mumbles, his voice low and graveled as he squeezes you again. You feel your cheeks heat in spite of yourself. It’s all pretend, all things you’ve talked about, but that doesn’t stop your body from reacting. His big hand lingers, fingers dragging over your ass as he pushes past your parents into the house. Uninvited.

You ignore your mother’s pointed look under the pretense of juggling presents, pushing into the house after your fake boyfriend.

Simon unceremoniously snatches the gifts from your father as soon as he’s in the house, haphazardly tossing the boxes under the tree while you carefully place your own presents, seemingly ignorant of your boyfriend’s lack of care.

“So how was the drive?” Your dad asks, trying to find something to talk about.

“Bloody awful,” Simon butts in before you can answer, he jerks his head in your direction, “‘ad to listen to the bird’s music the ‘ole time.”

“I thought you liked my music,” You pout.

“When tha fuck ‘ave I ever said that?” He snaps at you. You stifle the flinch and watch Simon’s brows draw down ever so slightly.

When you’d gone through all the details for this he’d told you to try and temper your flinching, assured you that you didn’t need to be scared of him, that if you were dating he’d never lay a hand on you. That didn’t stop his quick, harsh, response from startling you. At least the small crease in his brow made you think he didn’t enjoy the reaction.

“When we first met.” You smile, playing it off. 

“And you believed that?” Simon huffs, “Can’t believe I’m the first one to grab ya off the street with ‘ow gullible ya are.”

You blink at him, and turn to hastily cover for him to your dad.

“A consensual grabbing.” You assure him.

“Think I’m still deaf in my right ear from ‘ow loud ya screamed.” Simon grumbles, digging a finger into his ear as if to demonstrate his hearing loss. You feel your cheeks heat reflexively. Even fictional it’s embarrassing to imagine that you might have met a long term serious boyfriend in a kidnapping attempt.

Nevermind that the idea of someone like Simon grabbing you off the street is a major plot point in some of your favorite videos. You try to keep your mind out of the gutter, a difficult task with Simon’s fingers grazing your ass.

“It was a prank.” You continue covering.

“Bet actually.” Simon corrects in an attempt to make things worse. “Seein’ ‘oo could take the prettiest bird ‘ome.” He nudges your dad as if he’s bringing him in on the joke, “Should’ve seen ‘ow much this one struggled, should’ve known she’d be an ‘andful.”

“Your friends sound-” Your dad swallows whatever distaste boils behind his tongue in an effort to keep the peace, “interesting.”

“Served together.” Simon sniffs.

“Oh!” Your father seems to brighten at this new information.

“Lost a lot of good men, but kept all the worst, eh bird?” Simon tosses a smile your way. The playful grin lights up his face, tugs at his scars in a way that’s far too charming. 

“Where did you serve?” Your father asks, too eager for war talk.

“Went where I was needed.” Simon grunts. It’s an end to the conversation. You can see your father trying to think of where to go from there, if he should push for a different answer or ask about if Simon enjoyed his time in the service. He settles on exactly what you’re sure Simon was hoping for.

“So what do you do now?”

You almost brace yourself for his answer, and you’re glad for the added tension in your shoulders because it stops you from barking out a laugh.

“Beside fuckin’ the bird?” He doesn’t get another word out before your father growls out a loud.

“Alright-” that your mother cuts off with her well timed, if sudden entrance.

“Your aunt is on her way,” She informs you, “She’s excited to meet your boyfriend.”

“You got a lot of people comin’ ta this thing?” Simon asks, as if you hadn’t given him a full guest list.

“Just a few,” Your mother smiles, “my sister lives nearby so she’ll be bringing her boys.”

“Would’ve been nice ta know there were brats comin’ ta this thing,” Simon gives you a look and you pout.

“I told you this was a family thing.” You remind him.

“Didn’t know ya had so much family,” He sniffs, “Brother isn’t comin’ ta this too is ‘e?”

You have to stop yourself from grinning at the family landmine Simon so perfectly walked into.

“Henry doesn’t come to family functions anymore,” Your mother tells him curtly.

“Heard ‘e got tired of havin’ you scare off ‘is girls,” Simon grins, “thought you’d be a bigger bitch.” You choke. You mother’s gaze whips to you and you carefully go about adjusting the presents under the tree just so you don’t have to look at her. 

“Well I don’t know where you heard that,” The high note in your mother’s voice betrays her, the faux-calmness barely covering the boiling anger that’s starting to show, “but it’s not true.”

“Are you callin’ me a liar,” Simon’s voice takes an icy note in response and you glance over your shoulder to watch him roll his shoulders back. You can see the way his musculature moves even under his jumper. The threat is palpable, and also completely inappropriate for the situation.

He’s good at this.

It’s your father’s turn to diffuse the situation.

“You a footie fan?” He asks, because he’s ass at calming your mother (or anyone else) down. You can practically feel Simon’s attention shift, like the air in the room has to adjust to the pressure he exerts.

“City.” Simon huffs. You dad grins, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. Playful ribbing that somehow always ends in a screaming match.

“Manchester boy, eh? Ya find it hard losin’ to Liverpool all the time or do ya get used to it?” Your father jokes. The question hangs dead in the air. Simon hasn’t moved a muscle, so still it scares even you, and you know it’s just an act.

“You like chewin’ your food?” Simon asks, his voice so deathly calm that you grab his arm with  a laugh and pull at him.

“He’s just kidding Simon,” You placate, trying to pull your --wow this guy’s bicep is huge-- fake boyfriend away, “Right dad?”

“Oh come on,” You father tosses your way with a shake of his head, “I can handle a Manc-” He snorts and turns to Simon “-at least better than their players handle the ball.”

Simon flexes under your hands, and you physically can’t restrain him from shaking you off to stalk over to your dad. 

“Simon please,” You plead, you don’t even have to act, the way he grabs your father by the shirt collar you all but leap to wrap your arms around his waist and try to pull him back, “not again!”

“Again!” Your mother yelps as your father holds his hands up, eyes wide with fear.

“It was a joke,” Your father assures Simon.

“Fuckin’ better be.” Simon relents, releasing his hold on your father and turning those dark eyes to you.

“Look’t you grabbin’ me,” He grabs you before you can let him go, your muscles still vibrating with adrenaline. He holds your face with the same hand that had held your father, squeezes your cheeks with his fingers.“Real cute, thinkin’ you could ‘old me back.” Your stomach flips. “Taught you better’n that didn’ I? You want somethin’ you gotta ask, yeah?”

“I don’-” You try to shake yourself back to your senses and Simon squeezes you a little tighter, “Please let go.” Embarrassment settles hot in your stomach at the spark of… something in Simon’s eyes.

“There’s my girl,” He smiles, “Now give us a kiss love.”

You feel your stomach drop out, and you’re sure it shows on your face. Simon raises a brow. Your tongue feels too big in your dry mouth. You swallow and glance at your parents.

“I thought you said no PDA,” You try. This wasn’t in the brief.

“Just on the cheek then,” His smile is absolutely devilish, you wonder where he learned it, “Wouldn’t want ta embarrass you in front of your folks.” Your mother scoffs. Simon turns to glare at her and you rush a quick peck on his cheek just to get it over with.

His stubble is sharp where it pokes against your lips, but his skin is surprisingly soft. You almost hesitate pulling away. Your skin already feels hot with the humiliation of kissing a veritable stranger whose only goal is to antagonize your parents for the evening, so you don’t waste time with the action.

You’re saved by your aunt opening the front door with a loud, excited:

“Happy Christmas!”

Before she freezes in the doorway. Your cousins rush in, seemingly unaware of the tension and you take the opportunity to pull out of Simon’s grip.

“Is this a bad time?” Your aunt asks as tactfully as she can given the energy in the house.

“It’s a great time,” Simon answers for the crowd with a smile. Your mother throws an alarmed look your way and does her best to plaster on something less emotional for her sister.

“I thought you were gonna help with the presents,” Your uncle calls from behind your aunt, who immediately turns to help him get the boxes in. You see her vaguely gesture at the house through the crack between the door and the frame and wonder just what she’s trying to convey. 

This holiday is already off to a terrible start. Which is great. But you can’t shake the feeling that it’s going… worse than you’d initially thought it would.

“When are we eating?” One of your cousins asks, you turn to see the teen, Jack, staring at you. You suppose you’re the only adult that ever really gives any of them the time of day, makes sense he’d ask you.

“Uh,” you blink, trying to come up with a decent answer for him, “probably soon.”

“I wanna open presents,” One of the little ones whines.

“You gotta wait,” Jack tells him. 

“Ok!” Your aunt announces as she comes back inside, now holding gifts, “Looks like you’ve already started the party!”

“Haven’t even started drinking yet,” Simon assures her. Your uncle joins the fray, shuffling past you to set his gifts under the tree as well.

“You drink.” Your mother clarifies with a smile, she’s hiding the horror well.

“I’m the life of the party love,” He tosses your mom a wink and turns to look around. You assume for the liquor.

“What do you drink?” Your uncle asks, good natured as usual. That’ll change.

“Bourbon.” Simon hums, “But I’ll take a beer if that’s all ya got.”

“Sure there’s somethin’ around here somewhere.” Your uncle meanders over to your parent’s short liquor cabinet and starts rifling through the bottles. Your mother shoots you a look that practically begs you to stop him.

“Do you need something mom?” You ask, oblivious.

“It’s just a little early to start drinking, don't you think?” She asks, a leading question. You know what she’s trying to do.

“You sayin’ I can’t get a drink?” Simon asks.

“Let the man have a drink,” You uncle cajoles, “It’s a holiday!”

Your mother’s lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t comment on the glass your uncle pours for Simon, but she does retreat to the kitchen with your aunt in toe. You’re almost tempted to follow them and see what they’re saying. Maybe you could throw some fuel on the fire. Simon throws an arm around your shoulders before you can move, holding you against his side to keep you in place. You glance up at him, he doesn’t look at you. 

You tug your phone from your pocket for something to do, trying to look busy and uninterested in the chaos Simon is sowing, when it’s all you can think about. He manages a normal conversation with your little cousins, going through introductions like a regular person, even commenting on the shirt Jack is wearing. You glance at it and just know that was a fight with his mother. Looks like it’s based off some horror movie, blood dripping off a knife held aloft by a masked figure. Not very Christmas-y.

You can almost hear the argument that must have taken place when he’d put it on.

Simon must be smart enough to figure that out because he’s really hyping up the teen over the shirt. Talking about the movie and complaining about how his mom sounds like a bitch. Your cousin blinks at the swear before you see a grin split his face.

“Fuck yeah, is aunty letting us swear now?” Jack asks, too excited to contain it.

“The fuck is she the queen of England?” Simon laughs, turning to you, “Your mum’s not lettin’ ‘em swear?” You shrug.

“She says it isn’t ‘proper’.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“Fuck proper.” Simon snorts. He shoots you a look as he sips his drink. You’re sure Jack will be cussing the rest of the evening with Simon to back him up. Your mom’s gonna love that.

Your aunt comes out of the kitchen and grabs her husband to whisper in his ear. Your uncle glances at Simon and makes a confused face. One of the younger ones runs up to them and loudly asks:

“What’s fuck mean?” 

Simon averts his gaze and you feel his shoulders shake with restrained laughter. You have to hold it in yourself, the glare your aunt sends Simon’s way is too funny. The kid was bound to hear it from his brother eventually. Really, Simon is saving the teen from being grounded with that one.

Your mom comes sweeping into the living room just in time to save Simon from getting an earful. Your aunt’s glare transfers to her before she can fix her face. Your mother’s lips pucker, an unpleasant understanding that something is happening crossing her eyes. She ignores it, much like every other unpleasant thing you’ve witnessed with her, in favor of normalcy.

“Dinner is ready!” She announces.

“That was fast,” You blink, usually she spends more time milling about and waiting for people to finish a few cocktails.

“Well,” She smiles at Simon, “I thought I’d speed things up so nobody misses any other christmases.”

“Got nowhere to be.” He informs her.

“Oh I’m sure you’re mother would-”

“Mum’s dead.” Simon sniffs.

“Then your fath-”

“If the bastard was still alive I’d kill ‘im myself.” Simon smiles at her over the rim of his glass before knocking back the rest of the bourbon and pouring himself another two fingers, “You got me all night if I want.”

Your mothers lips pucker again, the slightest hint of distaste in her expression before she manages a smile.

“We’re glad to have you.” She offers. You expect she’ll still try to force you out early. “Dinner?”

“Bloody starvin’.” Simon grunts, pushing past her towards the kitchen.

Your uncle is already serving himself from the various pans laden with food. Your father isn’t far behind him, eyeing the roast like a man starved.

You grab one of the Christmas patterned plates and hold it out to Simon, letting him queue behind your father. He glances around and you watch his eyes land on your cousins hovering nearby.

“Adults serve first,” You whisper to Simon when he steps back from the line for food to let the kids cut in front. It’s a quiet motion that presses him into you, he glances back like he might give you an apology before he makes eye contact with your aunt and loops his arm around you instead. 

“What?” He asks loudly, “Your mum tryin’ ta starve the poor buggers or somethin’?” You blink at him. He raises a brow. “No heart under those tits, eh?”

Your aunt gasps and he gives her a once over. You keep your eyes on your little cousins as they happily load up their plates with turkey and mashed potatoes. One of the older boys smothers his whole plate in gravy and honestly, you can’t blame him.

“Can’t be jealous, ya clearly got the better ass.” Simon tells your aunt as you scooch around him to get your own plate. He catches you around the middle and pulls you back, curling over you. He tips your head back with a hand on your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to dimple the skin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks. You barely hear him over the roll of butterflies in your stomach. Your cheeks blaze with heat, and you clench your thighs together tight at the way he glowers down at you.

“I’m gonna make you a plate,” You tell him, he pinches your cheek and lets you free.

“Good girl,” He tells you, “Got ‘er well trained don’t I?” He jokes to your aunt, who you can feel radiating anger behind you.

You don’t really know what he likes, but Simon is a big guy so you get him a bit of everything, loading up his plate like you do this every day. It’s probably too much food, but part of you sort of likes the idea that he’s eating what you “made” for him. You hand him the full plate and he smiles, you turn back to grab your own food --you must still be nervous from having his hand at your throat-- and he smacks your ass. You bite back the yelp that threatens to break free. The sharp sting of pain spreads through you like wildfire, blossoming over your skin even through your skirt.

You quickly pile food onto your plate, hoping your aunt takes your speedy exit as one of embarrassment and not one of- well a different sort of embarrassment.

You manage to squeeze into the seat next to Simon, feeling his thick thigh press against yours like a warm anchor. Your mother gives him a dirty look as he reaches to fool with one of the candles in the middle of the table. You’re sure she heard his loud announcement that she doesn’t care about her nephews. His other hand settles on your leg under the table and you stiffen. Thick callused fingers grip your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh with something you desperately want to call reassurance. He knows no one can see that, right?

You watch the rest of your family fill the table, your little cousins already picking at their food, stuffing salad leaves into their mouths and pretending not to lick the gravy off their fingers. You wait for everyone to take their seats before you pick up your fork and your aunt shoots you a look.

“I’d like to-” your aunt starts only to be cut off by your fake-boyfriend.

“I want ta make an announcement.” Simon tells the table loudly, the conversation goes dead, your mother’s eyes bore holes into you, begging for anything but an announcement. You think she might bend her fork with how tight she grips it watching Simon shove his chair back to drop to one knee. You clasp a hand over your mouth, doing your best to play the part of shocked girlfriend, despite having planned this. 

“Simon!” You squeal as he tugs a black ring box from his pocket.

“Lemme talk baby,” Simon hushes you and you shut your mouth quickly, “I know it’s only been a couple a months-” the look in your mother’s eyes could kill an elephant, “-but I’m mad fer ya, an’ I know birds like you get off market quick so if I wanna keep that ass to myself I bloody well better get ya tied down.” Your mother gasps.

“Shut ya gob, I’m tryin’ ta propose.” He snaps at her, and she leans back like she’s been struck. Simon turns back to you, and you feel a rush of heat drip between your legs at the look in his eyes. This guy should be on TV with how good an actor he is.

“Will you marry me?” He finally gets out and you nod.

“Of course I will!” You fling yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His big hands find your waist and squeeze. You pull away to take the ring box and he nearly pulls you out of your chair, only to push you back into it as he kisses you.

Your eyes go wide and you struggle to keep your hands on him when all you want to do is lurch away. Not a good look on an excited and newly ringed up girlfriend.

But the way he kisses you makes your stomach churn. His lips cover yours and almost as quickly as you get used to the feeling his tongue is trying to force its way into your mouth. You rush to close your eyes only to feel his tongue, thankfully, retreat. And be replaced by his teeth, biting your lip hard enough to bruise, prying your lips apart to slip his tongue in and lick your teeth. 

Your head swims, your eyes rolling at the way his hands grope and squeeze you, tagging every soft scrap they can find while he attempts to devour you. He does something with his tongue, twists it against yours to tickle the roof of your mouth, and you make a noise without meaning to. It’s all you can do to remember to clumsily slide your lips against his. You’re not sure you make a pretty picture when he pulls away, his spit trailing off your slick, swollen, lips. You suppose this evening isn’t really about painting a pretty picture.

It makes you squirm to feel his big thumb swipe over your lower lip, dragging the poor thing down to see your teeth. 

A chill racks your body as his eyes follow the motion of his thumb.

Your father loudly clears his throat. Your mother looks mortified. Your little cousins are covering their eyes while the teen pointedly looks at his phone.

Simon rubs the ring on your finger, pressing the metal back and forth against your skin. When the fuck did he put that on you?

“I’d like to say Grace,” Your aunt tries to wrestle the evening back into familiar territory as Simon sets you back in your chair. 

Your family bows their heads and you smack your knee on the underside of the table as you jump, unprepared for how high Simon’s hand settles on your thigh. You don’t even hear whatever prayer your aunt is saying with the way the blood rushes in your ears at the wide splay of Simon’s fingers. So. Close. 

You settle your hand on his and try to push him back to safe ground.

Jesus this guy is strong. Pain in your-

“Everything okay over there?” Your uncle asks. You must have looked like you were struggling more than you thought you were. 

“Fine,” You tell him, even though things are decidedly not fine and Simon won’t move his hand, “Just fussing with the ring.”

“Oh yes,” Your aunt holds her hand out across the table, “let’s see it.”

You hesitate before taking your hand off Simon’s. He doesn’t move, seemingly settled with where he’s settled. You hold your hand out for her to grab, let her turn your hand this way and that. Simon had told you he’d grab a ring, so you haven’t actually seen it yet. It’s pretty. A nice pear cut diamond with a trinity of what looks like pearls on either side. You wonder where he got it, you’re just glad it looks less fake than costume jewelry usually does.

“How nice,” Your mother coos, it sounds even less sincere than her compliments usually do.

You’re thankful you don’t need to do much talking at dinner. Simon more than makes up for you. He talks at length about how “mint” your friends are --he’s never met them-- and how his mates are begging for a go with you. He explains to your teen cousin, at length, how his violent video games could be worse, after your aunt bemoans the fact he’s been playing war sims. He makes no move to censor himself, actually from the few conversations you’ve had with him, you think he’s swearing more than he usually does. He even manages to start an argument with your father about “taking the gloves off” during combat.

“Different once you’re in active combat,” He explains like he’s talking to your father, “You do what you have to, keepin’ your ‘ands clean isn’t exactly front of your mind.”

You glace across the table at Jack, the teen looks completely invested in whatever Simon is saying. You can almost hear the look your aunt has fixed you with, you’re sure you’ll get a call later about your fiance “encouraging him to get himself killed.” 

“Oh please,” Your father blusters, “if that were the case the royal service would be under investigation. We’d see it on the BBC: Special Air Service members torture civilians. What a load of horse-” Your mother coughs and your father shuts his mouth.

“Got plenty of men like me givin’ orders,” Simon digs into his pocket to pull his cigarettes, stopping with his teeth around the filter of one when your mother coughs loudly. He shoves them back into his pocket with a grumbled swear. “Like I told ya earlier, ‘s not the good men that come back.”

“You’re so cool,” Jack tells Simon with wide eyes. Your aunt smacks his arm with the back of her hand, reprimanding. Simon’s eyes narrow.

He watches your aunt the rest of dinner. The conversation drifts as plates are emptied. You attempt to stand to help clear the table, and Simon holds you in your chair. Your mother putters around the table with your aunt, you smile and thank them. You’re almost done. Then you can go home and wait for the flood of texts/calls from your mom.

You can just imagine the way she’ll try to convince you to break off your (fake)engagement. You’ll wait a few weeks before spinning up some story about Simon cheating on you. Your family will be so grateful Simon’s gone they won’t ask any questions.

“Does anyone want pudding or are we going straight to-”

“Presents!” Your youngest cousin cuts your mom off, rushing  to the tree as soon as his plate is cleared. Your aunt grabs him and brings him back to the table only for him to run over again. She manages to pull a gift from his little hands, and bring him screaming back to the table. You wince at the sharp sound, the fat tears rolling down the kid’s chubby cheeks, crying about opening presents. Your aunt reminds him shortly that there’s still dessert to get through. It barely makes a dent in the tears. The kid pulls at his mom’s grip, screaming and kicking. 

Simon’s hand on your thigh tippens its grip. 

You know, you know. It’s never fun sitting around with a kid throwing a tantrum, but you’re sure your aunt will handle it-

There’s a sharp crack as your aunt spanks the kid. Hard.

Simon shoots up from his seat.

Your little cousin’s tears turn to sniffles and a wobbly lip as his mom gives him a hissed warning. 

Your hands shake as Simon stalks around the table to grab your aunt’s hand.

“The one thing you’re not gonna fuckin’ do,” He tells her in a low warning tone, “is hit your fuckin’ kid in front of me.”

It’s so different from the anger he’d had with your father over football. You know that, that was acting, but this… It radiates off of Simon like a miasma, dark seething hatred, anger like you’ve never seen. Your aunt looks at him like she’s seen a ghost. Her eyes are wide and scared, her hand still holding your cousin’s arm squeezes tighter, like the child is her only lifeline. 

“Ow!” The kid whines, the sniffles starting again in full, “Mum that hurts.” 

Simon cocks his head, his own grip tightening.

“Let ‘im go,” Simon presses, his anger as cold as death, “Or I’ll break your arm.”

“Simon,” You don’t know what you’re hoping your voice will add to this, not even sure what you should do, all you know is that you brought Simon into this house which makes him your responsibility.

“He’s alright,” Your aunt tries to assure Simon, “aren’t you sweetie?”

“Mum!” Your cousin whines again. Your aunt lets go of his arm like it’s burned her.

“Now apologize.” Simon demands. Your aunt nods sharply and swallows.

“Mum’s sorry baby,” She directs the comment at your cousin but her eyes are fixed on Simon, watching him like a rabbit watches a wolf. “It was just a little spank.” You think the pleading justification makes it worse with the way Simon’s eye twitches. 

“I ever catch you hittin’ ‘im again-” Your aunt’s eyes dart to you, to the fake rock on your finger, “-and it won’t just be your arm I break.”

Your glance to your mother for- God you don’t even know, help? Maybe? She glares at you like this is your fault. Fair enough. Your uncle seems quicker on the uptake.

“Maybe we take Christmas to go,” He chimes in, “Grab the kid’s gifts, since they seem tired.”

Your mother grabs hold of this lifeline as quickly as she can wrap her head around it.

“Absolutely!” She hurries to the tree to start sorting out gifts, “Oh I didn’t realize they’d be so exhausted, we all know fits are just fits, right Simon?”

“I look like I’m throwin’ a fuckin’ fit?” Simon asks her, his voice still cold.

“You know I’m pretty tired too,” Your aunt agrees.

“I’m not.” Jack chimes in.

“Yes, you are.” His mom hisses.

“And it looks like snow,” Your uncle adds, “so we should go.”

You hardly get a word in before your cousins are rushed out the door, no hug or forced familiarity from your aunt as she and your uncle juggle presents and strapping kids into car seats.

Simon takes one of the armchairs in the living room amidst the chaos, dangling his glass with his fingers on the rim as he glowers at your aunt. Your attempt to help them gather presents is stopped by Simon pulling you down into his lap. You stiffen reflexively to try and leverage some of your weight off of him, and he pulls you to lean against his chest. 

Maybe it’s good you don’t say good-bye. You’re not sure anything you could say would sound sincere with the way you’re perched on your fake fiance. You’ll definitely be hearing about this later.

You’ve never seen anyone in your family leave that fast. Your mother must blame you for this social faux pas with the way she glares at you. She’s not even trying to hide it, seemingly having deemed Simon as unworthy of her usual polite routine. She stops just short of yelling at you in front of him. Must be too afraid of what he’ll do to her if he’s willing to break your aunt’s arm over her kid.

You’re not sure when you lost control of the evening, but you’re ready to go. Your aunt’s exit should be your exit too. You even open your mouth to tell your mother it’s been a lovely evening.

Simon beat you to it.

“Let’s open presents.” You’d almost call it an order with how edged his voice is.

“We don’t have any for you,” Your mother attempts, “it wouldn’t be fair to open them now.”

“Don’t need a present,” Simon assures her, “Bird’ll gimme somethin’ later.” Your mother’s eye twitches. Simon’s hand slides over your thigh, his thumb rubbing gently at the sensitive, clothed, skin. Your nerves must be on high alert to feel his touch so acutely. He gestures with his glass at the tree. “Go’an,” He orders again.

The tension in Simon’s form slowly seeps out of him as your parents shuffle presents out from under the tree. His body, which had previously seemed poised to leap at the slightest provocation, relaxes back against the chair as your mother hands you a present. She smiles at you warmly, almost pitying, when you thank her. Simon’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh, possessive in a way that feels too close to reality. 

“Oh wait,” You tell your mother as she pulls one of the gifts you brought from the pile. You slip from Simon’s lap, and for some reason he lets you, bent at the waist to point to a different box. His hand slides over the swell of your ass with an appreciative hum and you have to stop the tremor in your voice as your blood rushes south. “That one first,” You smile, “otherwise this one won’t make sense.”

The normalcy of it is more welcome than you’d thought. Somehow your usual family Christmas doesn’t seem as tense or fraught with conversational landmines now that Simon’s intruded. If nothing else you suppose he’s given you that. It’s certainly easier talking to your parents when they keep casting nervous glances at Simon to make sure this is an appropriate line of conversation. 

Simon, for his part, does little except keep you in his lap as you tear into the paper wrapped boxes. Occasionally his hand moves from your thigh to squeeze your stomach, or your side, as if he’s checking that you’re still all there. It’s not exactly casual, and the heat that builds between your legs as he drags his callused fingers across your stomach makes you want to squirm back into his chest, just to try and escape the ticklish feeling.

You try to focus on the gifts, drumming up the appropriate amount of excitement to look grateful while all of your attention is on the spread of Simon’s fingers. His hand splays wide against you and you try to trace the outline of it, distract yourself from how big his hand is. 

But distracting yourself from the spread of his hand directs you towards the spread of his legs, to the firm muscle of his thick thighs, to the slight softness of his stomach when your back starts to hurt and you lean against him with less stiff of a spine. Your eyes drift to the window as your mother coos over the knitting supplies and class pass to her favorite craft store. It’s so dark out, the sun already disappeared behind the horizon and the streetlights are doing their best to shine even when the night dims them. You’re already tired.

Your phone buzzes and you check it with a glance.

It’s a weather alert.

You scramble off Simon’s lap only to be dragged back into it.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He asks, his hands grip your sides, fingers just brushing the edge of your bra. You can’t deal with the way being pulled like this makes your head swim. Fuck, maybe he could just grab you off the street and- NO.

“Simon,” You push at his hands, “problem.” 

“No problem love,” He hums. Lips brush the shell of your ear and you stiffen as heat blooms over your cheeks, “‘Cept you gettin’ up oll the time.” “It’s snowing.” You insist, still pushing at his hands.

Your father looks at you with confusion and glances out the window. It’s hard to see when it’s so dark out. You’re suddenly hit with a grim understanding of why the street lamps seem so dim. Your dad walks to the front door and tugs it open only to be pushed by the gust of cold wind and snow that rushes into the house.

The wind is positively howling.

Your father muscles the door shut and your mother nervously clicks on the TV to check the weather. She doesn’t even help your dad brush all the snow off him, worrying her lip as her eyes fix to the screen. 

“Not gonna be able to drive home in that,” Your father grimaces. Your mother shoots him a look before skirting her eyes around you to watch Simon. You can almost feel his smile.

“You wouldn’t mind us stayin’ ‘ere would ya?”

You flip on the lights in your childhood bedroom. Simon looms behind you. Reasonably you understand why he insisted on staying, even why he insisted on sharing a room. As far as your parents know you’re happily engaged, and as far as you could tell there was a blizzard raging outside. Honestly you’ve never seen anything like it, and if you didn’t know any better you might have blamed Simon for it. 

You have never in your life been more aware of another person’s presence. 

“In you go love,” Simon tells you, pressing you forwards with a hand on the small of your back. You stumble into your room and turn in time to watch Simon close the door. He bends down to unlace his boots and you manage to kick off your shoes in the time it takes him to straighten again. Now that you’re alone you feel on edge. All the casual friendly airs that Simon had been putting on when you’d met him before have done nothing to prepare you for the weight of his full attention. You’re only too happy when he turns to survey the room.

“I can take the floor,” You inform him, already gathering the spare blankets and pillows your mom had set on your twin bed. 

“Sit down,” Simon orders, your ass hits the side of your mattress so fast you haven’t even registered the command before you’ve followed it, “You’re takin’ the bed.”

His tone leaves no room for argument. You suppose it could almost be called kind of him to give you the bed.

“Sorry,” You tell him quietly, mindful of your parents in the next room.

“What’re you actin’ sorry for,” He huffs, “Sweet bird like you doesn’t mind sharin’, does she? Besides,” He knocks your knees apart with a big booted foot, “I still gotta get paid.”

You stare up at him, confusion plain on your face. 

“I thought you just wanted the meal.”

“Meal’s not finished, is it?” He tells you, “Never got dessert.”

“Wha-”

“Take your fuckin’ pants off.” His tone is clipped, short, and deep. It sinks into your skin, prickling goosebumps everywhere he’d touched earlier. Which feels like it must have been, well, everywhere. 

You should say “no.” Literally nothing about this man has given you any indication that he’s someone you should want to get undressed for, and he’s spent the better part of the day tormenting your family. Granted you did ask him to do that, and honestly his efforts do land squarely in the “pros” category, but he’s a little too good at playing a dirt-bag. And this? This just seals the deal on that particular observation.

So you should say “no.”

But the way his big hands had grabbed you, the way his tongue had wound against yours, the way he looks down at you now, hungry, makes you desperately want to do whatever he asks you to. 

“My parents are in the next room,” You whisper, glancing back at the wall that separates the two rooms.

“Who gives a shit?” Simon snorts, “Don’t ‘appy couples celebrate their engagement?” Your eyes flick down to his trousers, the implications aren’t lost on you. He must catch you looking because his hand grabs your hair and tips your head back. “Trust me birdy, I’m tryin’ ta be nice, but if ya wanna choke on it…”

You race to get your trousers open, fingers shaking as you push them down. You don’t need to see his cock to make some leaps of logic that it’s just as big as the rest of him, and if he’s offering you the choice between his mouth on you, and your mouth on him-

Simon leans forward and unceremoniously shoves his hand into your panties, your trousers barely down your thighs. Your train of thought comes to a full halt as big fingers stroke through your folds.

“Atta girl,” He hums, “much ‘appier like this, aren’t ya?” He tugs his fingers free, spreads them in front of your face with a pitying pout at the way your slick glistens on his skin. “Least your cunt knows what’s good for it.”

He pushes your head back, tossing it towards the bed as he releases your hair. Your back hits the mattress and you have to work to keep from hitting your head on the wall. Simon’s fingers find the hem of your panties and drag them down your thighs, catching your trousers to discard the lot on the floor. 

You snap your legs shut against the chill of the room and he growls. 

“None of that now,” He advises, prying your legs apart. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your thighs, his gaze fixed on the wet mess between them. The way he stands over you makes him feel massive, makes the way he leans over you feel looming. 

His hands slide over your ticklish inner thighs and you have to stifle the giggle that threatens to spill from you. You doubt Simon would appreciate your laughter, might even think you’re laughing at him. Again your eyes dart to the hard length straining against his trousers as his thumbs spread your folds.

“Pretty,” He says it so plainly, casually, like he’s judging a toy. It blazes through you, lighting up your nerves and making you shiver. Any other protests you might have had die on your tongue as Simon drops to his knees. 

Seeing him between your legs makes your stomach clench, makes your cunt pulse with desire. One of his thumbs rubs up and down the seam of your cunt while the other keeps you half-spread. He presses his thumb firmly against your clit, the pressure makes your hips squirm, makes you ache for more stimulation. The pressure stops, and his thumb traces its way back to holding you open.

He spits.

You flinch when it hits your spread folds, body vibrating with embarrassed heat as it slides over you. Simon’s eyes follow it the whole way down, and his tongue drags it back up.

Simon’s tongue cards through your folds, warm and wet, and he groans low in his throat. It’s positively sinful the way he pulls his tongue slow and flat over you, like he’s trying to savor the taste. You snap your hand over your mouth, stifling the soft whimper that the attention brings to your lips. 

Simon’s eyes flick to your face and he makes a frustrated noise. You feel his teeth touch your skin just before he bites you. You yelp at the sharp pain, your hand shooting from your mouth to his head in an attempt to push him away. Simon tips his head back to bite at the meat of your palm, his teeth digging into the firm flesh before his tongue licks over it. There’s a sharpness to his teeth, chipped edges that scrape at your skin and ache before he soothes them. 

You don’t want him to bite you again.

You don’t think you do.

Do you?

His tongue rolls over your palm, wetting the dry skin with spit and slick. His mouth has a heady sheen to it that makes you want to drag your tongue over his lips, to clean up the light prickle of his beard with your own mouth.

“No sense lettin’ you breath if you’re not gonna scream for me,” Simon informs you. Your face has never felt hotter than when his teeth scrape down your palm to tease your pulse. You’re too enraptured by the way he moves to let spit drip off his tongue and onto your clit to really register what he said.

His tongue rubs against your clit, working the firm bud back and forth before letting his tongue roll over it. Each hot swipe sends a new shudder of heat and pleasure through your body. You whimper, your wet hand tangling its fingers in his short cropped hair just to feel him shake his head like a dog. 

It’s filthy the way he drags his lips over your folds, sucking and slurping at you like he’s trying to be loud. His stubble scratches at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, prickly and sharp next to the warm wet mouth that sucks at your clit. His tongue keeps twisting over it, keeping it sensitive and tingling before he’s ducking down to fuck the slick muscle into your hole. Simon moves his tongue against the entrance to your cunt like he’s hoping to stretch out the hole with it, circling around the delicate outer edge before pressing inside, over and over until your brain feels like it’ll melt out of your ears. 

Then that wet heat is dragged up to your clit, circled and sucked, licked in broad strokes that wiggle against you just so he can hear the way your voice pitches up in pleasure.

He turns his head to wipe his mouth against your thigh, lips parting to lick a long stripe before he sinks his teeth into the meat of it and sucks. Your own lips close tight around the whimper the dull pain of it pulls from you. 

He muscles your leg up against his shoulder, his arm moving to find a comfortable angle as he hooks his thumb in your fluttering cunt. You blink at the intrusion, the thick digit may as well be two of your own fingers the way he pulls at your entrance and stretches you open. That isn’t what steals your focus from his mouth though, what tugs at you is the way his other thick fingers rub over your ass, spreading your slick and attempting to soften the hole into something pliant.

He’s grabbed your hips to roll you onto your stomach before you can raise a protest to the searching fingers, big strong hands dragging your hips up so your knees settle on the edge of the bed as he stands. It forces your face into the quilts, muffling the noise of surprise that the motion shakes out of you. Again you find protests on your lips, you hadn’t even come, and again they’re snuffed by his fingers.

Two of them push into your cunt and you moan low in your throat at the burning stretch that they provide. Your hips rock back into them, your stomach fluttering with need as more heat courses through you. His fingers crook and he thrusts them down into your cunt, hitting some throbbing tightness that makes you cry out.

Simon makes a low cooing noise in the back of his throat and his fingers stroke against your walls. You turn your head to rest your cheek against the bed, your lips pouting and your lashes fluttering as he gives you just long enough to suck in a breath before his fingers are pressing against that soft aching spot again. Your eyes roll, your breath caught tight in your throat at the thrum of pleasure that tightens like burning heat in your aching cunt.

His fingers pump faster and faster into your cunt, and you cry out, your hips wiggling and your fingers gripping at the quilt. The wet squelching noise that comes from his fingers fucking into you makes an embarrassed heat rush over your skin, and you burry your face in the blankets just to gasp out your moans. Your mouth hangs open, drool dripping off your tongue as your breath stops in your throat. The tight heat between your legs feels like it’s winding its way all the way up through your diaphragm. Your muscles are tensed so tight you think you might snap, and you let out a low moan as your breath finally shakes free. You suck in air between sobs, each punch of his fingers into your cunt pushing a new noise free of your lips.

The wet noises just get wetter.

And then something inside you snaps. Your stomach clenches tight and your cunt follows, spasming around Simon’s fingers as they pump in and out of you. Stars dance across your vision and you bite the quilts to stop from screaming. Something trickles out of you and he rewards your orgasm with a throaty chuckle.

He pulls his fingers from you and rubs soaked fingers over your ass before he’s trying to push one inside.

“Been eyein’ this ass all night.” He hums.

The firm pressure hurts the harder he presses, and you whimper out a sniffled reproach to the feeling, a soft “hurts” that you’re sure will fall on deaf ears. Simon stops, pulls his finger back and slicks it in your cunt again, the feeling of his fingers twisting against your soft spot making your eyes roll. It hurts, an overworked burn that makes you whimper for an entirely different reason.

He pulls his thick fingers from your cunt and you feel the tip of one teasing your ass again. It’s barely a pressure when his finger tries your ass again, and he lets out a slow breath as you’re filled.

“Just sunk right in,” He tells you, pumping his finger in and out, the drag of heat has your lashes fluttering, your head spinning at the deep pressure that makes your cunt clench, “Isn’t that pretty.”

His thumb catches your cunt again, tugging at the slick hole. The click of his belt and rustle of fabric clues you in to what comes next.

That doesn’t mean you’re prepared for how big his cock feels nudging at your entrance. A chill runs over your skin, goosebumps raising to meet the air where your jumper has slid down your back. The blunt head of his cock presses against your hole, and you arch your back into the feeling, desperate to find the right angle for it to slip in. 

Simon doesn’t seem as eager. He pushes into you slowly, lets you feel the way you burn and stretch around him, lets you feel every centimeter of that big cock. You feel tight, even as wet as you are, you feel like you’re squeezing the life out of him. Your cunt is hot and tingling, and your clit throbs with the need to be touched. 

You feel his hips press against your ass, and he grinds into you. Another wave of goosebumps rushes over you at the deep ache he pushes into. You squeeze your eyes shut just to stop the way they keep trying to roll back in your head.

Simon pulls back, and you can almost feel the drag of his head against your walls. He grinds the tip against the soft spot near your entrance before punching his cock back into you. You make a choked noise before your throat seems to open and a flood of moans and pleas flows from you. Each push of his cock into you pitches your voice up and you moan in desperate panting sounds.

You ache. You’ve never felt so full. He hasn’t taken his finger from your ass, instead he presses it down to try and feel his own cock stretching out your walls. You shove a hand between your legs to try and stroke your clit only to feel the stretch of your skin around his fat cock. You’re so wet that your fingers slip over your folds, uncoordinated, and you can’t get a good angle. You open your mouth but can’t find the words to ask for what you need.

One of his thrusts pushes you up the bed and your hand moves immediately to push against the wall with a ‘thump.’ 

“Simon,” You whine, “Simon.”

His free hand pets up your spine, bunching your jumper up under your armpits to unhook your bra, before finding its way to your hair. He curls his fingers and finds a tight grip near your scalp. The bite of pain makes you want to push back into him. The deep pressure, the slight sting, from your ass makes your body stutter, your brain crashing into itself.

Oh God.

“Not a thought in that pretty little ‘ead is there?” He asks, the fingers gripping your hair tight pull your head back, you moan your pleasure for him as he gives a hard thrust into you, your bleary eyes opened just enough to focus on the white wall. “Course not,” Simon grunts, a huff of laughter edging his voice, “Wouldn't've responded to my ad if there was.” 

You reach back to claw at his thigh and find it still, painfully, clothed. A burst of humiliation shoots through you at the thought that Simon hasn’t even bothered to get undressed. 

“Stupid thing, really could’ve just grabbed ya off the street.” He mumbles, there’s a touch of fondness to his voice, a smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the way he fucks into you. Like he’s trying to teach you a lesson.

The only thing you’re learning is that Simon’s cock hits something deep and needy inside of you. The finger in your ass starts to pull out and you scream. Simon groans as you tighten around him, your cunt desperate to keep his cock inside. You’re buzzing with your orgasm, settled right at the edge with nothing to push you over the edge. There’s too much stimulation. His cock pistoning into you and his finger starting to tug at your ass. You’re still sore from his fingers but you can’t stop yourself from clenching tight around him.

“Mad fer it,” Simon chuckles, “tell me what ya need bird.”

“Clit- clit,” You stutter out, still barely able to keep the words straight in your head. 

“Louder love,” He teases, “don’t think I heard ya.”

“Please,” You sob, your moans still tearing from your chest on each thrust, “touch my clit.”

He drops your head back down onto the bed, and you muffle your noise with the quilt clenched between your teeth. His finger pulls from your ass and you scream your pleasure into the bed. It’s so hot, your ass burning with something that isn’t entirely painful. It just makes your clit pulse harder. 

Simon’s fingers find their way between your legs and he pinches your clit between them. One roll of the tight bud between them has your legs shaking. The second has tears brimming at your lash line and your mouth hanging open as you flutter and drip on Simon’s cock. You tense and release around him, your orgasm crashing into you like a train. Waves of it rush through you, shaking your muscles loose until you’re laid like a doll against the bed. Your skin is burning and you ache,

And Simon keeps fucking you.

The smack of his hips against yours fills the room, his breath heavy and his fingers now tight on your waist. You push back into his thrusts and it makes stars dance across your vision. That deep aching part of you makes everything draw tight again. 

Simon’s thrusts grow quicker, rougher, his fingers grip you so tight it hurts. You scream for him again, his hard thrusts pushing you to the edge a third time. The blistering heat of his come hits your overworked cunt and you moan. 

“Too much,” You whine. Everything is sore when he pulls out. You don’t think you can move.

Your knees slip off the edge of the bed and you just lay there.

Simon rolls you back onto your back, and manhandles you into laying on the bed properly. 

You sit up just enough to tug your jumper off and toss your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Simon ditches his shirt and you sleepily take in the cut musculature of his chest as he wanders to turn off the light.

You pass out before he ever gets his pants off.

*

Your parents have already gathered the presents from last night by the front door when you wander downstairs in the morning. Your father doesn’t look at you, but your mother positively glowers. You try not to think about how loud you’d been last night.

Simon’s had his hands on you since you woke up. His fingers splay wide on the small of your back, as your parents attempt to rush you out the door. 

You’re settled in Simon’s car, driving down the street when you finally let the laughter take over. You giggle and snort, pressing your fingers against your mouth to try and stem the flow of them. But really, what can you do? Despite being forced to spend the night putting a dent in your plans it’s worked out perfectly. Your parents won’t be asking about you getting a boyfriend any time soon.

If you’re lucky your mom will never ask you about your relationship status again, even when you “break up” with Simon.

You’re still giggling, glowing with happiness at a successfully executed plan, when you try to pull the ring off your finger.

Something sharp digs into your skin and you yelp in pain. 

“What the fuck?” You question, whimpering when you pull harder and it only sends the sharp bit further into your skin. You raise your hand to look at the ring, and find a sharp tooth just under the diamond, clearly a feature not a bug. Still you glance at Simon. “I think this ring is defective,” You tell him, “It keeps stabbing me.”

Simon hums, turning right down a street. 

“Then stop tryin’ ta take it off.” He advises. You twist the ring around your finger, trying to find  a way to work it off.

“I can’t get it off,” You grunt in annoyance.

“Not suppose ta,” Simon tells you plainly, taking another turn, “That’s how bein’ engaged works.”

Something squirms in your stomach.

“We’re not engaged.” You remind him.

“Wearing my ring,” He reminds you, like he’s explaining it to a child, “said ‘yes’ to my proposal-” A smile splits his face, predatory in a way that makes you press your legs together, “-probably still buzzin’ for my cock too. Sounds engaged to me.”

You balk, your mouth hung open as you gape at him. Is he insane?

Simon doesn’t even look at you, just reaches to the side and presses against the underside of your chin with gentle, firm fingers, closing your mouth. Then he leans past you to open the glove compartment and tug a crumple of papers out onto your lap.

“If ya get bored you can look over those.” He tells you, flicking on his signal to hop on the highway.

You glance down at the mess of papers settled on your thighs, a mass of text and fine print that your eyes can’t focus on because they’re so shaken by the two poised at the top:

“Marriage License.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[justanothersetofholes123]

Dream first date

I meet up with a man from the internet, no idea what his face looks like. I get a cheap hotel room and get a doormat and leave a key under the doormat for him and go inside to wait.

Before he arrives I strip naked, put on a blind fold, pour out some rice and kneel on the dirty hotel floor in the painful rice and wait, mouth open tongue out.

He might be an hour late or 4. Who cares.

When he gets there he walks in and doesn't speak. I'm kneeling, shaking from the pain. He grabs my hair and wretches my head back and spits in my mouth, that's my hello.

He gropes me and fingers me and inspects me as I kneel. When he's done he slaps me around to see how I take it. He then pushes my head down and with no lube, or warning begins to fuck my dry ass. I cry but you punch the back of my head and tell me to hold still until you cum. Then you make me stay kneeling in rice with cum dripping from my ass.

Then he goes to the bed and lays down. My phone is on the nightstand unlocked, with my unlocked laptop and he goes through them while laying on the comfy bed and I stay kneeling in the rice. He goes through my purse. Takes my ID, my social security card, my borth cirtoficate. He finds my wallet full of cash, he told me to cash my check before showing up. It's my rent and bill money but he takes it.

He goes through my credit cards and uses my laptop to do some online shopping. He buys shit for himself or other girls he's with and I just listen to the keyboard knowing he's spending my money. He'll tell me every time he makes a purchase. "There goes another $575 for a Dimond necklace for my other girlfriend," and "there goes 2,000 for a new gaming system for me," and "oooops that card is all maxed out. Too bad." And I hear the scissors as he cuts it up and moves on to another card.

When he's done maxing out all my credit cards he goes on my laptop to check my bank balances and browse my social media. He might post on there, I won't know for hours.

Once he's bored he will walk over to me and fuck my throat while he looks at pics of my little sister on Facebook or my best friend on Instagram. When he cums he'll begin pissing down my throat then go back and sit down and transfer money from my bank account to his. "Oh poor piggy, I took every cent you have," You'll tell me while I sob.

After you'll walk back to me and see my Dimond tennis bracelet, my sapphire earrings and necklace, and my wedding ring. All gifts from my late husband. You'll rip the necklace off me while I cry. Take off the earrings and bravelet and then make me take off my ring and hand it to you. I don't need it anymore I'm yours now.

You'll then make me get dressed and drag me roughly your car and take me to a pawn shop and make me go in and sell them all. When I come out sobbing with the ticket you'll burn it and use it to light your cigarette.

When you're done you'll put out your cigarette on my nipple and my new life will begin.

[theemporium]

Hiii!!! This is my first request but I love your writing so I know you won’t lead me astray!! Im thinking about 💰 with sugar daddies Charlos who maybe find out reader has needed something really badly (maybe something like school textbooks or the like) and instead of asking them, she has been saving up and stressing about it or even looking for grants/scholarships and they find out and are like ☹️ “why didn’t you tell us???” And it’s just really fluffy and sweet!!

(ALSO,,, pleaseee when the proper time comes and if you want to, write the werewolf!lestappen request!! It sounds so good!!)

Thank you loads xx

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You were going to turn yourself grey with the stress this paper was giving you.

The whole class had been taking over your life in the worst way possible. It had a low pass rate, the paper was worth a majority of your grade and the professor that already seemed like a dick seemed to have it out for you—or at least that's what it felt like with all the feedback you received from her.

It was overwhelming and frustrating and it seemed like no matter how hard you tried, it wasn’t getting any easier.

Your tipping point had been when the professor announced a massive essentials reading list that you had to complete before you started the paper, along with the announcement that she expected to see each one in the reference. The kicker? None of the papers or textbooks were available in the library or free online. It seemed like you had to pay for it. 

And if being a student with crippling debt wasn’t enough, the price of academic textbooks could have sent you to an early grave. 

You had resorted to picking up a job with crappy shifts at a bar on campus. The hours were horrible, the manager was an asshole and the customers were anything but polite (mostly consisting of cocky frat boys and trust fund babies who flaunted money like it was enough to look past fake IDs). Between the hours you were pulling and the hours spent studying in the library, you barely had time to sleep—let alone keep a thriving social life. 

You hadn’t even realised you had been ignoring Charles and Carlos’ messages until you opened the door to your flat and found them waiting inside.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread washing over you. “Did I forget something? Is there a gala tonight?”

Carlos frowned, a hint of concern in his eyes. “You weren’t answering our messages.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, your cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment. “I didn’t take my charger to the library and then it died during my shift—”

“Your shift?” Charles repeated, his brain wracking around to figure out if he was misinterpreting your words. “What shift?”

You fell quiet, realising you had slipped up.

Carlos stepped forward, his fingers pushing your chin up when you tried to look away. “He asked you a question, amor.” 

“It was just a few shifts at the campus bar,” you murmured with a sheepish expression on your face. “It was no big deal. It was just so I could buy–”

“If you needed to buy something, you tell us,” Charles said, almost looking like a kicked puppy when he spoke. “That was our deal, cherie.”

“Yeah but,” you started but even you weren’t sure where it was going. “I thought that was for gifts and stuff…like materialistic things.”

“Whatever you need, we want to provide,” Carlos corrected you, his large hands cupping your face whilst you stared up at him with wide eyes. “Whether it’s textbooks or vacations or a car.”

“Please don’t buy me a car,” you murmured. 

Charles snorted. “We won’t, but we can. If you need it, we will.” 

“I just feel bad asking,” you admitted shyly. “It’s different when you give me things compared to when I ask.”

“Well, get used to it because I don’t want a repeat of this,” Carlos said with a frown as his eyes glanced over your face. “You look exhausted.”

“It’s been a very stressful few weeks,” you told the boys and you watched Charles’ frown deepen a little.

“Then let us help you destress,” Charles said before nodding towards your bedroom. “Go get changed. We are taking you out.”

“Charles—” You started but he cut you off.

“You’re ours to take care of, physically and financially,” Charles said, taking one of your hands in his as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “We will call your job and tell them you’re quitting.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t say anything stupid or dramatic.”

Charles grinned. “Me? Never, cherie.”

“I’ll make sure he behaves,” Carlos told you with a smile. “Now go get ready, amor. Let us take care of our pretty girl.”

.

[sofs16]

our home

part 1: paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos — next

not proofread, as usual:)

yn.jpg

budapest, hungary

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, carlossainz55, and 392,383 others

yn.jpg beautiful race and driver who man never sits still 😆

view all 82,484 comments

laufeyyn as much as i love you and paddock yn, do you not have a job? 😭

⤷ yn.jpg NOO DW ID QUESTION THIS TOO! i actually still do have a job but it’s mostly online unless there’s a photoshoot somewhere or meeting:) i usually do my work at the paddock (war flashbacks to when i was called a horrible wag for being on my laptop😊) but yes i still work! ⤷ ynml i love how straightforward she is esp w the hate she got at silverstone LOL HATERS

[liked by yn.jpg]

chacha166 i love how its been a year but yn is still so active with us 🥹

⤷ yn.jpg you guys are so kind and silly its kinda hard to stop 🤷🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

july 23, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 7,383,383 others

charles_leclerc P2 at Spa! Huge congratulations to Carlos on his win. Started at P14 and maximized the car. Time to recharge ❤️

Photo 📷: @yn @yn.jpg😘

view all 271,484 comments

yn proudest of you ❤️‍🩹

⤷ charles_leclerc ❤️

yncharles THE PGOTO CREDITS LALALAAJAKAHAHAHAHA

carlossainz55 Why does yn not take photos of me

⤷ yn i do but i havent posted them yet, carlitos :( congrats on p1! yahoooo

july 30, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 6,373,383 others

yn something happened 💟

view all 981,574 comments

charles_leclerc 🏠

⤷ yn hehehe

yncharlesparents DID THEY MOVE IN TOGETHER WHAT

[liked by yn] ⤷ yncharlesparents SHITTING MY PANTS

⤷ yn wear a diaper, it helps

yourbsf i better have a room yn yln

⤷ yn the living room is spacious enough ❤️

⤷landonorris what about me

⤷ yn um we have 2 couches? ⤷ landonorris good enough

august 3, 2024

liked by yn, and 10,483,494 others

charles_leclerc Home ❤️ And can you believe Yn has 2 closets and says it’s not enough? 😂

📷 Photo: @yn @yn.jpg 😍

view all 1,483,695 comments

user11 she’s so ungrateful

user13 I bet she makes him buy all her clothes..

⤷ yn @user11 @user13 Actually, I have a job that allows me to pay for my wants, not that I need to explain myself! And I am very grateful for everything so don’t make assumptions, it was a joke. Hope you have a good life and actually find a job instead of being rude to people you don’t know! ❤️

[liked by charles_leclerc]

⤷ yneditss I fear, she ate. ⤷ charles283 I bet the PR is not happy abt this but we are 😊

⤷ yn i spoke my truth 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ynhumor I CACKLED I LOVE HER

⤷ ferrariforza You know she’s serious when she makes the capitalization and punctuations 😭

yncharles16 i love how yn is slowly taking over charles’ insta hehe he’s so whipped

august 6, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by yn, and 7,585 others

f1wagsoft._ Yn and Charles ❤️❤️

view all 328 comments

yn 🥹❤️‍🩹

⤷ ynstan yn is always active for f1wagsoft._ AHAHA

⤷ yn loveeee em

⤷ f1wagsoft._ ❤️ august 7, 204

yn.jpg

liked by charles_leclerc, and 2,483,595 others

yn.jpg peaceful life 💌

view all 1,385,584 comments

ynzangel SHE HAS CHILDREN?

littlewomennzz EXCUSE ME?

lovelaufhlife WHAT

charles_leclerc Beautiful❤️

⤷ landonorris WHAT IS HAPPENING

yn.jpg IM NOT A MOTHER

⤷ ynschild you’re our mother. ⤷ yn.jpg true dat, child

⤷ ynsfan did she just say “true dat” HAHAHAHA IM GIGGLING I LOVE

⤷ yn.jpg WHAT AB IT ??????? august 8, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,484,484 others

yn im sincerely sorry for the fright. i am not pregnant or with child or have child 😭

that was charles’ nephew and niece…

view all 934,484 comments

landonorris Soon?

⤷ yn YOURE LITWRALLY MY CHILD HUSH

⤷ landonorris maybe.. idk

⤷ yn IM OLDER THAN YOU? ⤷ landonorris BY A FEW YEARS

charles_leclerc Cuteeee🤓

[liked by yn]

yourfavynstan All jokes aside, she looks like she’s make a lovely mother:( especially one with those quiet lives away from all the chaos of fame

⤷ charles.updated the day they settle down and charles content disappears 😭😭😭😭

⤷ yn this is so kind omg. and you will never run out of charles content as long as i live and we live together! pinky swear

⤷f1gr1dd I LOVE HER IT HURTS

august 9, 2024

f1wagsoft._

liked by 14,383 others

f1wagsoft._ That… is not Yn Yln with Charles Leclerc.

view all 29,383 comments

ynchar YN? MOM? WHAT

charrrl guys, theres more pics leaked.. it’s him… and not yn.

charlando WHAT

ynupdated @yn pls what. be active. youre always active here

user16 i don’t like charles with anyone other than charlotte and i thought i would he happy about this but im not. charles and yn truly did look like they loved each other

⤷ yncha WE DONT USE “LOVED”. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER

⤷ f111grid delulu is the solulu. we’re the same 😞

ynleclerc1 Not with zandvoort gp 2 days away.

riciando idt yn will respond abt this. sure she seems very open but you can see she’s only open about certain parts of her life. we don’t even know how old she is or where she lived before charles or anything 😭

august 23, 2024

#SOF : is this a bad time to say im a writer who likes to leave cliffhangers ?

[kingshovelbug]

Hii what is your best advice to younger adults trying to make it independently and make a living? In art, savings or anything you think of. Thank you in advance!

dont be too hard on yourself. its tough out there right now in regards to like everything regardless of what old people say. also this is going to be a lot so im slapping a read more on here

⭐️ first thing id recommend for anyone is to start figuring out a budget. figure out how much youre making monthly. keep all your food receipts for a month or two to see what youre spending on food. find out what youre paying for thats necessary like utilities and whats not

the goal for a budget (or at least mine) is to find a good balance of earning vs spending. im paying off my credit card right now because i ran through all my savings after we had to move last year but my goal used to be to save 1/4 of what i earned after bills and putting money into an emergency fund (usually an emergency fund is 3 months worth of expenses). but it depends on how much you can comfortably put away. if you can put more away do it. but if you never spend money and deprive yourself of joy youre going to burn yourself out regardless of what your job is

⭐️ if youre not already buy store brand for as much shit as you can. if its an ingredient i promise as someone who cooks and bakes you probably wont notice the difference. if its an actual snack it depends. again both from a money perspective and to boycott pro-isreal companies we get a lot of snacks from aldis and theyre awesome. i dont miss anything from mars, oreos etc when i have my chocolate coconut wafers

⭐️ if you have any subscriptions and you need to get rid of something you can probably cancel them. for *most* things theres some kind of free alternative. but again just like with a budget. there are going to be some subscriptions that make your life easier and while youd save money without them it would lead to extra work and burning out. ex willow has kofi gold because it has really cool extra features that help with running the shop. but for streaming services? im going to be so honest. both to save money and with how cheeky streaming companies (in a bad way) have been getting… you can find whatever you want to watch online for free

if you need to use anything from the microsoft office suite, but youre not required by youre job to specifically use microsoft, libreoffice is a free alternative that i actually like better. its what i use to help willow run their shop and its free

for art programs. if you still have photoshop switch. not just for money reasons. adobe is getting bold with what they can claim as their content and use from what people produce in their program. the switch isnt the easiest but there are a bunch of alternatives. some free some like csp offer one time licenses which are so much better than subscriptions. will has spent almost $2k on photoshop and after effects from using it as long as they have. when csp is $50 and they like csp better anyways. i also know of krita and fire alpaca which are free

⭐️ also theres stuff about being an adult that i thought you had to pay for but you dont? like for car insurance i went through an independent insurance agent and they found me a cheaper plan than i could find myself. i didnt pay the guy. they get a cut from the insurance company for finding them another customer. some banks or credit cards offer financial advising sessions to users. its boring but if you can get a copy of your health insurance see if they have any free shit on there thats available for you. my brother gets free doctor finding? like i can call them, tell them what specialist he needs and instead of me calling around to find one that can take him, they connect me with someone. my work offers 3 free therapy sessions (better than nothing) and free food that i take advantage of

⭐️ i think one of the biggest things that makes an impact for us is researching before buying stuff. sounds like a no brainer but you dont just want to find the cheapest deal. you want to find the best bargain, the best bang for your buck. whats the best quality thing you can get that you can also afford? itll prevent your from having to replace stuff all the time and by extension spending more than you need to. we have nonstick pots and pans that are scratched and starting to peel (which apparently can cause cancer??) that were cheap because of being on sale. now after looking into what makes quality cookware i know i should of just slowly bought stainless steel

⭐️ last big one. credit cards. unfortunately we need them so find one with a low apr and that offers decent cash back. use it up to like 20% of your limit and pay it off every month. focus on using it on things that will get you cash back so you can essentially get free money

im sure i could ramble more but this is already super long

[pumpkinsy0]

modern purly hcs?

i gave them my time machine again guys!!

•pony reads fanfics and tries hiding it from curly, under no circumstances is curly to know about that aspect of his life, if he finds out hes killing him then himself

•pony would totally leave hate comments under curlys thirst traps (i dont wanna call it that but thats the closest thing i can rlly refer it to), his fav thing to say is “flying cars, they said”

•curly thinks the “ihatemybf” trend is so funny, pony will see him like or repost it and ponys just like “well ok”

•theyre both not good at making decisions, whatever they do, chances r was decided by spinning some random wheel online w their options

•they both got fake id’s, pony just uses it to buy cigarettes, curly doesnt have to use it all the time bc he looks older than he is, but he uses it as a back up!! but sometimes he loses it and just asks pony to use his to buy him drinks or whatever else

•curly does actually have to go to school or else his mom is gonna get a letter threatening for her to go to jail (or get fined i forgot which one it was) POINT IS she can get in legal trouble and curly isnt down for that so he goes to school way more, and when i tell u pony is like the only thing motivating him to go and not absolutely lose it, i mean it. his attendance still aint GREAT but its somethin

•curly u would’ve loved recording urself screaming that pony did something insane he absolutely he did NOT do, in public and watching pony’s mortified face as ppl looked over. pony hates shopping w curly for that exact reason

•pony writes some of his poems and thoughts in his notes app so unfortunately there is a multitude of poems/thoughts about curly that curly will neeverrrr everrrr know about. for pony though this is great, those r the more personal things and he knows curly would get the BIGGEST ego from em

•when pony’s in trouble he has to leave his phone at home if he wants to sneak out cause darry makes him turn on his location, and when pony sneaks out he has to rely on curlys shitty phone to do anything. tim’s caught on and threatened to do the same w curly and curly will always have a small amount of hatred for darry for giving tim that idea, bc tim’s done it to angela before it only a matter of time before he does it to him

•they have the internet at their disposal yet curly wants to ask pony the stupidest questions, ik pony says “google is your friend, use it”

•speaking of the internet, this means pony touches curlys hair wayyyy more bc curly sees those “style my hair” vids and make pony help him w it. they try stupid life hacks too while their at it, sometimes they know it wont work, they just love the game of it

[crashlapine]

"people just don't seek out music anymore and that's why spotify is such a vital service in helping artists get discovered and paid"

hey. buddy. listen 2 me. my fixation on the band sElf is because twenty seconds of a song of theirs was backing a monster hunter world gameplay clip someome posted to a now-dead twitter account. A hand-curated music playlist for a VRChat world I accidentally typo'd my way into introduced me to Superorganism's "It's All Good" a few years ago. Crumb's two albums Jinx and Ice Melt are among the highest number of full-album playthroughs in my library because i caught a shitty recording of Locket playing in-car over a snippet of someone's dash cam footage audio that was lifted for a youtube clip compilation channel someone else runs. back in 2011 my high school forced my entire grade to watch an anti-bullying PSA that ran on for 40 minutes but the credits had Dabrye's "Making It Pay" playing over it and that set me on the path to exploring all of Ghostly International's available music releases i could get my paws on at the time.

like. i've discovered music in the most obtuse places, often via the most unlicensed conduits those tunes could've possibly accompanied, and i can say with one hundred percent sincerity that the $9 i've spent just once on a digital album or two so i could listen to it again and again has probably put more food on the table of these musicians than spotify's "minimum one thousand streams annually per-song before payouts" discovery playback ever could achieve across a decade for many of these folks. i promise this isn't a brag, I just don't know how else to explain that spotify really isn't the only viable path forward when music permeates every facet of this world and all you have to do is take note when something catches your ear. the only thing truly making it harder to discover new music is licensing restrictions, automated Content-ID matching, and the universal/sony/warner music trio regularly leveraging both of the former to ensure your favorite song has an expiration date by tamping down on all of this, and unless you can hunt down a copy to save locally, a time will come when you'll never be able to hear that favorite song again. this isn't a threat; you and me both are going to outlive this service, as we've outlived many other online-only services before it.

(and i say this with complete sincerity to those not in a financially viable place to buy albums on the reg: just slurp the .wav off youtube homie. compared to spotify, the net gain to the individual artist is exactly the same. who knows, maybe you'll be able to inadvertently pass it along to someone else who's able to go and make that purchase, as others have unknowingly done to me. word of mouth alone is a /very/ powerful discovery tool)

[mxtantrights]

the shopping incident

this is a snippet from the famous dc! au that started with The Greatest Hits [read here] you don't have to read it but a lot of things would make sense if you do!

The whole pap thing started happening after there was buzz about the video with you and Jason. You know that Jason said his brother handled it as best he could online but these things have a way of rearing its ugly head anyways.

Which is why you can't leave the thrift store you are in now because there is a small swarm of paparazzi outside waiting and biding their time. They wanna ask you about the video, they wanna ask you about Jason. They wanna take a picture of you when they do so they can say they caught you off guard.

You don't know what else to do besides not leave. Leaving means facing the wrath of camera lenses and mics and hidden mics and raunchy questions and baseball capped people trying to make a living off your privacy.

So, with not know what to do you call the only person you know who can help you. You tap away on your phone until you get to his contact and then you send him a text.

you: tips on how to deal with paps?

Three ellipses show up hurriedly. You're not sure what Jason's up to these days but he's probably busy. It makes you feel guilty for even reaching out to him. You want to unsend the text but you can't, he's already seen it.

Jason: are you okay?

you: yeah yeah, just wondering how I can get from this store to my car without doing anything stupid.

Jason: just don't answer anything. are you alone?

you: yeah I just wanted to look in this store for a moment but I forgot I wasn't exactly a browse-in-the-store normal person.

Jason: happens to the best of us

you: including you?

Jason: well with a face like this I kinda can't forget I'm not normal

you: how do you walk around with a head that large?

You laugh at his joke. And when you pick your head up you are face to face with a man. A regular looking man, about your height. He's got a smile on his face.

"Sorry I'm not here to intrude or anything, I just wanted to know if you are gonna buy something?" he asks.

That's when you look down at his shirt. More specifically the tag on his shirt that reads: Manager and his name underneath the title, Ron.

You take a deep breath, "You know what, I really was looking around and I saw some things that I liked but the group outside is really getting to me."

He nods his head as if he understands. In your mind you think, maybe he does. This is California, he's most likely had this shop for a while now. He has to know what it's like. Yeah.

"Well you're free to wait them out however long you want, I just don't have a back-door option at the moment since construction is happening in the next building over." he explains.

Well, there goes any plan of sneaking out of here. You choke down a sigh and smile anyways.

"Thanks Ron. I think I should shop anyways, why let them get the best of me?" you rhetorically ask.

He gives you a thumbs up and then he's walking away to assist another customer. You look back down at your phone. Its on silent meaning you didn't see all the texts coming through from Jason.

Jason: learned from my father

Jason: you should ask the owner if theres a backdoor.

Jason: I promise it's not a big deal hun

Jason: hey?

Jason: Did something happen??

Jason: Hello??

You are quick to reply back, worried that you made him sick with his own worry.

you: Sorry was talking with the owner. no back door.

Jason: that's okay. do you wanna wait it out?

you: honestly no. I'm hungry and I have food at home waiting for me

Jason: okay pick up the phone

You're confused why he says that. Then that confusion is met with realization when his caller ID pops up on your phone. You hit accept faster than you have before and raise your phone to your ear.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asks.

You snicker, "Oh I'm feeling like I'm in a gilded cage. How's your afternoon?"

"Well I was stuck in a meeting for this role I didn't want so thanks for getting me out of that." he answers.

With the phone tucked into your ear by your shoulder you can look around the store now. Its filled with things that you like. Trinkets that couldn't be explained in your home, shoes that you have no business wearing. Things like that.

"You keep calling me when you're busy and people are gonna think I'm the bad guy." you speak.

On the other end you can hear him laugh. A sound you like to hear, a sound you miss not being on set with him for a while now. That's soon to change with pre-production ending in the coming weeks and filming set to start in a month after if all goes well.

In front of you is an assortment of things. Your hand reaches for a motorcycle helmet first. It's a cherry red color. And it's a bit scraped up but you think that adds to the velour of it all. It's funky looking. You have no use for this other than it would look bad ass in your home.

"Too bad. Anyways, when do you plan on leaving?" he asks.

You pick up the helmet and examine it with both hands now. It's not shiny, but you can see your reflection in it nonetheless. Pretty cool.

"As soon as I finish what I came here to do, which is shop." you answer.

"Do tell, is this the sexy time kind of shopping or is this groceries?"

You laugh and place the helmet back carefully. Your hand reaches for the next thing. A green book that looks worn out a bit but still in good condition. You read the spine and your eyes go wide.

Oh this is gonna be good.

"I'm not buying anything you can think dirty thoughts about you creep. Besides I think groceries can be sexy." you reply.

"Very sexy hun." he retorts.

You grab the book with your hand and walk over to the register. This was it. You needed something to say that you weren't unnerved by the paps outside, that they didn't manage to derail your plans. And you needed also to get the hell out of here.

So you slide the book onto the cashier table.

"Hey are you still free two weeks from now?" you ask.

"Yeah, I thought we had plans." he answers.

"We do, we do. But maybe we just move them to somewhere private." you speak.

"Of course, we can. Your place or mine?" He asks now.

You realize how you might answer in the privacy of your own home is a bit scandalous for the public setting you're in right now. So you erase the joke you have for him in your head and go for something appropriate.

"Mine." you say simply.

You sigh out your wallet from your bag. The cashier prompts you for your card and you give it to them. A quick swipe and then your book is getting wrapped and put into a regular brown back.

"Good. Tell me when you're about to leave." he says.

"I'm checking out at the register now." you answer.

The cashier gives you your card back first. You put it back into your wallet and drop it into your bag. Then you are handed the shopping bag.

"Okay stay on the phone with me when you walk out." Jason says.

You mumble a thank you to the cashier. And then you gussy up the courage to walk out the front door. You opt to hold your phone up to your ear, giving your shoulder a break.

"Walking out now." you say as you push open the glass door.

As soon as the California air hits you, the cameras do too. The questions are shouted. Yelled. Thrown at you. You keep your head down a bit. Where you parked your car is at the forefront of your mind.

So much so that you don't fully register what Jason is saying to you on the other end of the phone. You just hum along until you are finally at your car. Then you unlock your doors, set the bag down in the passenger seat and get inside.

The car door closes and you let out a breath. The paps are still outside but they are immediately less loud. And they can't come in here. Some seem to back off a bit.

"Okay?" you finally hear Jason ask.

"Yeah yeah, I'm in my car now. I'm good." you speak.

"Good. Good. Okay. Do you want me to let you go now?" he asks.

You put your phone on speaker and put it into the cup holder. Silently you let out a ragged breath. It's rough and you sit back into your seat.

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine." you answer.

"Text me if you're not. And text me when you get home." Jason says.

"I will. Thanks again Jay."

"No problem. Gotta go."

"Alright, bye."

Your phone buzzes. Call disconnected. Your mind is able to calm down now being in the vehicle of transportation to get you away from the madness. And after hearing Jason-wait a minute.

That's when it hits you. Jason. Jason, on the phone. As you were walking out to your car in the flurry of paps, questions and snapping cameras, he called you something.

He called you baby.

[popcorn-plots]

Hey there! We are a family of 5 (4 youths, one 55 year old) planning a 10-day trip to England and Scotland in month of June 2024.

We are planning to spend 4 days in London, one day trip from London to either Oxford or Wales. 1-2 days in Edinburgh, around 2 days in Inverness. Any other recommendations?

Can you guys help me with some pro tips? Some things we are interested in are

hidden gems/off beat attractions

local activities

best/cheap travel options - car rental for Scotland? Trains are expensive - are they worth it?

What's the best way to reduce too much walking for the 55 yr old family member? Maybe like scooter rental options? - Lime e-scooters?

vegan food options

Recommended stay options - recommended serviced apartment under 250 GBP a night?

Money saving tips - visitor oyster cards, London pass, Explorer pass. I've read britrail pass isn't worth it? What are things I can book in advance apart from accommodation and train tickets?

Best way to spend - contactless forex card

Things to buy

Things not to do

What to carry - a raincoat, water resistant shoes, layers for clothing

Any month specific attraction? - Mayfield Lavender fields

Is there anyway I can catch a play/show that stars celebrities during this time? (no points for guessing I'm interested in anything with Benedict/Martin)

Sherlock related attractions - shooting locations, souvenir shops, found this awesome BBC Sherlock Guidebook

Anything else you recommend?

Thanks a lot!!

Okay, I'm finally getting around to answering things-- (sorry it's taken so long)

Anyways, I'm not completely sure what your budget it, so I'll just go from my experience. As for the trip itself, I hope you guys have so much fun! London is amazing and I wish I could come with you.

Now prepare yourself for an academic essay (not really) of a post with pictures included (below the cut) because I am a nerd.

For the day trip to Oxford or Wales, I loved both places (Wales in a really fun cultural experience), but if you're concerned for time, Oxford is closer (1 hour drive) while Wales is a 4 hour train ride. My group did a tour of Oxford college while we spent a good two or three days in Wales. I was in Oxfordshire at the same time Benedict Cumberbatch was, but he was 23 miles away and I was so sad

As for Inverness, Inverness Castle is a really cool stop and Loch Ness was so much fun to see. I would definitely bring an umbrella though. My entire group forgot their umbrellas and we got absolutely drenched. Also, if you have a little time on your hands, the Hogwarts Express bridge from Harry Potter is just an hours drive from Inverness and it has a great hiking spot and a fun little gift store. It's at Glenfinnan Viaduct and it was fun to see. There's also a Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross Station (I know there's been a lot of stuff with JK Rowling, but liking Harry Potter and liking JK Rowling are two very different things and it's perfectly fine to like Harry Potter and hate JKR.)

One of my favorite things to do as a tourist is to... be a tourist (which sounds weird) so I absolutely love to go to all the major attractions. However, I've found some really fun places. Gelato shops, for one, are very nice (and tasty!). Speedy's Cafe from Sherlock is an actual place, as well as 221B Baker Street. Speedy's Cafe is on 187 N Gower St, Euston Rd., London NW1 2NJ, United Kingdom, and it can range from 1-10 pounds a person for food. That same street with Speedy's is the filming location for the outside of 221B Baker Street. The real Baker Street is a little ways away, but there is a Sherlock Holmes museum. With a student ID, tickets are around 8 dollars a person (otherwise, it's 16). The wait time is a bit much, but it's worth it. There's a lot of Sherlock Holmes tours that are really exciting, but if you don't want to go on a guided tour, they filmed in a lot of easily recognizable parts of London such as Trafalgar Square. There's also a lot of tourist sites online that have said locations, and it helps that London is an easily walkable city (and the public transport is a literal godsend compared to Utah). Bletchley Park is also a must-see, but only really for people who are interested in the behind-the-scenes of WWII, in a way, and Alan Turing. And yes, it looks exactly like it did in The Imitation Game. However, tickets are a bit pricey and the hour train ride to Bletchley is also quite pricey.

Arthur Conan Doyle was actually born in Edinbrough so there's some things to do there, if they put the statue back. Edunbrough Castle is a great visit and it is supposedly the inspiration for Hogwarts. There's also a grave with the name Tom Riddle in what is supposedly one of the most haunted cemeteries in the UK if that's interesting for you. Also, in Endinbrough, there are bagpipes everywhere. There is, quite literally, a bagpipe player on every street corner. It's amazing.

When I did the study abroad, my group rented two coaches for Scotland (we had 29 people -- 22 students, two directors, and then the five of the directors families) so I don't have a lot of experience with the trains. My advice, however, is to create a spreadsheet somewhere and make a list of what you want to do, how much it would cost, and how much you're willing to spend and go from there. Find train and car rental websites and find one that works with what you plan to do. Also, if those sights have any reviews, look at them. Find what other people are saying about the particular service -- everyone has different opinions, but if one site has more positive reviews from more people, than that could be a good starting place for what you want.

London has really great public transportation, and Oyster Cards are very useful for getting around. Most of the tube stations I went on have both stairs and elevators, and the busses are enjoyable for tourists. Other than that, I'd find some tourist websites that talk about accessibility in London.

Again, I'm not completely sure about stay options as my group had our accommodations provided by the college (but ooooh boy that is a long story--), so I would recommend the spreadsheet and travel websites. AirBnB's are also a good option.

On money saving, Oyster Cards are incredible. I don't know how much they cost, but I used mine at least two times a day, sometimes even four during the entire 3 week stay. Definitely get an oyster card. I'm not completely sure about the other passes, however (SPREADSHEET). Other things to book might be some activities -- London has a lot of fun tourist areas that may be enjoyable. For example, Buckingham Palace, Kensington Palace, etc. Also, in terms of souvenirs -- it's really exciting to get things on site, and sometimes that's the only place you can get stuff, but a good rule of thumb is that you can generally get the same thing for a lot cheaper somewhere else. An example would be that I wanted a SIX sweatshirt when I went and saw it life. Sweatshirts were around $60 dollars while Amazon had them for around $20. You don't have to get everything from Amazon, but if you're worried about it, there are cheaper options elsewhere.

Some advice about European Culture if you didn't know them already: take-out is called take-away, and you usually have to flag the waiter down at restaurants (or simply raise your hand). Also just be polite, and Americans are generally really loud compared to Europeans so, assuming you're American, just be aware of your surroundings. In other parts of Europe, like Greece, pick-pocketing is a big deal, so we had to keep a closer eye on our belonging (I would hold my phone or put it in a front pocket). I'm not sure if this is a big thing in London, but still -- be aware of your belongings. General safety also applies in trusting your gut, using buddy system, and not being out alone at night.

One of the best tips about London is Tesco. If not for the joy of having a row with the local pin machines, than for the 4 pound meal deals -- a main, a side, and a drink. My family lived on these lunch deals. They are pretty good, they have a decent selection, and are in literally every single Tesco you go to. Tesco also has pretty decent prices and, if you're smart about it, you can feel a family of 5 for a week on one trip.

For things to carry: umbrella (in the summer the rain isn't so bad, but it's there), good walking shoes, definitely layer up. London can go from 90 degrees to 50 in an hour, and can go from not a cloud in sight to torrential downpour. My SH tour was caught in the second one -- that was an experience to say the least. Don't forget things like an oyster card and maybe some extra cash if you feel you may need it.

I have no idea about celebrity shows, but West End is literally the Broadway of London (but a whole lot cheaper). My family saw 10 shows on West End during our 3 three week stay. It was amazing, and if you fancy a night out, China Town is literally just around the corner.

That's pretty much all I have right now! It's pretty long, but I hope it's what your looking for! If you have other questions, feel free to ask. (spreadsheets will be your best friend if you know how to use them)

[bimboaudino]

TGTF Medallion In Bangkok

I sat in the private jet, the gentle hum of the turbines barely entering the soundproof walls of the airplane, sipping on a martini as I think about what I’m doing. I was going to Bangkok on a work trip. My company had just signed a major deal to open up and buy business there and I was going to meet the partnering companies to get things started.

But it was more than a business trip. I knew I’d have more than just a few days off to enjoy in Bangkok. I shivered at the thought, pulling out a small silver medallion with a red gem embedded in it. I remember when I had discovered it on a less than legal auction and could barely contain myself.

I was looking for something a little kinky. Something that would let me act out my true desire, and then be able to go back to a normal life. It wasn’t that I was a gay man, the thought didn’t sit well with me. But to be a woman, that was something very different. To have someone see me as less, as weak and as submissive, and to act as such. The thought sent shivers down my spine, I could almost feel my cock harden as I stared at the small silver piece of jewellery.

"Another?" a female voice asked, snapping me out of my fantasy. It was the air hostess. A young brunette who had been trying to flirt with me since the plane took off. I quickly stowed the medallion and took another stiff drink, nodding my head. She walked off, making sure to sway her hips as she went.

Id always been rather a disagreeable man, and this had often gotten in the way of any type of romantic relationships, my wife barely talked to me. So instead I focused on my career, working hard and climbing the ladder. Soon enough I was a very successful CEO. But I’d always wanted to know what it would be like to be on the other side. To be weak and powerless, and have others dominate me. This was something I kept a tight lid on, keeping it secret and letting it manifest in my fantasies. To be agreeable, submissive, and powerless in the hands of others.

I knew the medallion could grant me that experience, the moment I laid eyes on it.

I had found it on an auction on the deep web, an online black market, bidding high to win the item. When it arrived I was in a cold sweat, holding it and knowing what it was and what it could do. Id tested it a week ago by imagining my wife’s image, finding myself in her form, the mental and physical changes almost throwing me for a loop. It had been a crazy few hours before I used the medallion to change back, having found myself thinking as her after a short while. I’d have to be careful.

I looked out the window seeing we were on the approach to the airport, and a smile creeped onto my lips. Tonight was the night. I was met at the airport by a car sent from the Thai business association, and was escorted to my hotel, the Hilton hotel where all the guests for the conference were staying. I dropped off my luggage, a single suitcase and made my way back out to the city. I was staying in a rather large penthouse and would have the entire thing to myself for the night, but before I could get around to my plan I was of course to give a talk for my company and discuss the business agreement.

"Great talk Jake" my associate Mike shook my hand as he beamed.

I thanked him for coming as we mingled with the post conference crowd. Many powerful rich men, just as I was, gathered here.

The next few hours were spent in boring meetings and talks with business associates and CEOs.

I finally managed to wrap things up, leaving the conference to head back to my hotel. It was a huge building, and a quick elevator ride to the top floor. I walked out onto the balcony overlooking the city, the nightlife already bustling in full swing, the sounds and smells reaching all the way to me. I was just able to make out in the distance the red lights and neon signs of the infamous red light district. It was the place I’m planning to get more than a little intimate with if all goes to plan.

I could see it vividly in my minds eye, I was to become a sex worker, selling my body for money. The thought alone was enough to make my cock throb and my breath hitch. I had thought long and hard about this, the things id do and the ways id be used. Id be forced to use my body to pleasure strangers. Id be treated like a dirty whore, and not be able to do anything about it. The though of being so submissive, agreeable and powerless excited me, and had led to many a night where id cum to the thoughts and fantasies of being a woman and being forced to have sex with strangers.

"I'm going to do this" I tell myself, feeling the medallion in my pocket, running my fingers over the cold metal. I can already feel the nervousness growing inside me, my heart beat rising. I'm actually going to do this.

I look at the medallion, and take a deep breath, calming myself.

In my minds eye I picture her. An Asian girl, young barely 18, petite yet busty, with a cute face and an innocent look, and short bob hair. She was dressed in a latex Short shorts, the shiny fabric ending well above her thighs. On her feet was a pair of latex thigh high leggings with built in heels, the rubber fabric ending a few inches above her knees, giving her legs a smooth, bare look. On her arms she wore latex gloves, the tight material going up all the way to her shoulders, and covering her arms, save for a few inches of bare skin around her wrists. At her neck was a choker, the same latex material as her leggings and gloves. Her hair was jet black and flowing.

Her face the image of innocence and naivety, her expression a shy, meek one. Her personality was different. It was a complete contradictions compared to my own. Yes, she was a submissive, agreeable and meek, eager to please and willing to do anything.

A low knowledge, simple, and unintelligent girl. A dumb bitch.

She was a whore, a prostitute, a sex worker.

Her name? That's easy, her name is Mei, Thai in origin, her English is broken and simple.

I see it all in my minds eye, and I clutch the medallion tightly, a strange warmth emanating from it.

It was time.

I took the medallion and held it firmly, imagining the girl I pictured in my mind, the latex outfit and the handbag. I concentrated, feeling the medallion pulsing in my hands, getting warmer and warmer.

It felt like electricity was running through me, starting from my toes and fingertips, running up my body and converging around the medallion, a warm heat emanating from it.

As the electricity ran up my body I could feel the changes starting.

My hair, it was lengthening. It started to reach down from my neck, running down my head. The sensation was strange, but not uncomfortable, a strange itchy sensation. My head felt lighter as the hair grew out, the itch growing worse, until it was almost unbearable. My hair now hung a few inches past my shoulders, and the itch was gone, the weight of the hair being longer felt heavy.

It was starting.

I was becoming her.

My feet were next, a tingling sensation running up my legs as they changed. My shoes began to tighten, and I was able to feel them shrink, my feet shrinking with them.

The first thing I noticed was that my body felt lighter, the shoes having grown a small heel. But it was more than that, my weight was now centred lower.

My foot and calf muscles were also getting tighter, my legs becoming dainty and lithe. The transformation continued up my legs, traveling upwards.

They were changing, the transformation spreading up my legs.

The tingle continued, moving up my hips. I could feel the change happening, the bone structure changing, my body slimming down, and my hip width widening.

My hips were starting to widen, the muscles growing tighter, my body slimming down as the transformation travelled upward, my height dropping as the room around me felt larger and larger.

My chest was next, the transformation traveling up my torso.

I could feel a pressure on my chest, the sensation was strange. It was growing tighter and tighter, the sensation of my torso and rib cage shrinking to petite female proportions, gone was broad muscular chest, and in its place were two small mounds.

My breasts, they were forming.

They grew from small pea sized nubs, to the size of lemons, the pressure on my chest was getting intense, the mounds growing. Knowing that I now had breast tissue, my nipples erecting and hardened.

They were small and perky, and highly sensitive.

The transformation had spread upward, continuing to my shoulders, and down my arms, the sensations travelling along my arms, and to my hands.

I could feel the tingling in my fingers, the digits changing and shrinking, the skin softening, becoming feminine. My hand felt smaller, the skin softer, and the nails longer.

I was getting excited, the changes happening so far were wonderful. The sensations continued up my arms and to my neck, my body was slimming down, my neck becoming thinner and feminine, my jaw and face changing.

My face, it was one of the most strange changes.

My nose and cheek bones changed, my face slimming down and becoming feminine, the masculine jawline vanishing, and the chin becoming smaller. My eyes grew slightly larger, my eye lids changing and becoming daintier, and the skin on my face softening, my eyebrows thinning out. As my race began to shift I could feel my eye lids begin to grow longer and thicker, my eye lashes growing fuller and longer. Taking on an Asian slant, like two beautiful almonds, they began shift from a bright blue to become a deep shade of brown.

My mouth changed, the lips filling out, becoming thinner and softer, and my lips grew slightly larger, the corners turning upwards, forming a small natural pout. My nose gaining an Asian look, and a small button like nose, with the same change occurring to the rest of my body.

I could feel my ears changing, they were shrank very slightly as two pinpricks indicated piercings now present.

I look down at my body, the changes were nearly done, I was now only around 5ft, and I could feel my height had lowered even further, the room around me appearing large. I could see my thighs now with a thigh gap, and my feet and calves were now smooth and dainty, the skin soft.

My pelvis finally started to change, the transformation moving to the very last place.

My groin area, the skin became smoother, and the area around the groin area began to shrink, and I could feel my penis and testicles retracting, a strange sensation, my crotch becoming a vagina, the labia growing from nothing and expanding outward, the labia lips becoming full and soft.

The sensations were traveling downwards, my cock and balls were retracting into my body, and disappearing. My cock shrinking into a nub, and my testicles disappearing, the scrotum shrinking, the skin smoothing and tightening, the area becoming a fully functional pussy, the lips forming.

The sensation of having a vagina was strange, I could feel the new emptiness, the lack of testicles and penis was so alien, but also amazing.

The transformation was almost done.

My puffy pussy growing wet and warm at the knowledge of the final things to come. My breasts finished growing the size of Cantaloupes , ripe fruit that hung from my now petite chest, and my ass finished changing, becoming a firm, bubbly, jiggly rear, and the last thing to change physically was my skin tone, my body colour changing from a pale white to a light bronze, a light tan, a beautiful golden hue of the Thai people.

The transformation was complete.

I was no longer a 40 year old disagreeable man.

I was a 18 year old, cute, Asian, whore.

But my clothes were up next, the transformation starting with my lower half.

The tingling started at the bottom, a sensation spreading up my legs, traveling slowly. My boxers began to tighten, shrinking down, becoming smaller and smaller. I felt the thong dig into my cheeks, and then the elastic around the waist and hips stretched outwards, and began to grow.

As the thong shrunk and stretched outwards, I could feel the front part of the thong digging into my new pussy, and the sensation caused a shiver to run up my spine, the back strings spreading my cheeks so they were visibly outlined against the latex, the transformation causing the thong to shrink further.

The transformation continued upward, the tightening sensation spreading up from my crotch.

My T-shirt was next, the cloth beginning to stretch out.

I could feel the transformation traveling across my body, and the material was stretching, the T-shirt tightening, the fabric becoming more revealing. I could see my midriff as the shirt began to rise, the transformation continuing upwards.

I could feel the sensation spread up from my groin and hips, the t-shirt lifting, the fabric beginning to reveal the skin of my abdomen.

The material rose, and I could feel the air touching my belly, the transformation continuing upwards, the t-shirt rising, the material becoming smaller.

The tightening was reaching my shoulders, and the material had risen just under my bust, taking on a shiny gloss.

My chest began to rise, my new tits pushed up, as the latex shirt was tightening, the material becoming a tube top, a bright pink crop top. The material clung to my figure, and the transformation spread upward, the shirt lifting my tits, becoming tighter as a deep V neck was formed, the V neckline dipping low between the breasts, showing off the cleavage, the material clinging to my figure.

The transformation spread down my legs, the material tightening, the latex leggings turning into thigh high boots.

What was left of my trousers forming into a pair of short shorts, the shorts were tight, and the material became shiny and pale, the fabric stretching and turning into latex, the shorts were tight around my ass, the material clinging to the curves, outlining the ass cheeks.

My arms covered in latex, a pair of latex shoulder length gloves covering the skin, and the rest of the t-shirt had already become a tight shiny crop top.

The transformation finishing as a tight chocker forms around my now petite neck and I stood there, dressed in latex and rubber, the transformation completed, I was now her.

The sensations subsided, and I looked down, seeing myself, I was now her, the girl I saw in my minds eye, the transformation complete.

My brain suddenly felt strange, a weird fog setting in, clouding my thoughts.

"Me head feel strange" I say in a small voice, my words coming out in broken English. A strong Thai accent smothering the words.

The thought of speaking in an Asian accent was strange. It felt alien, but at the same time, right.

"Why I speak like this? Is not make sense"

"My name" I say, the thought of what I used to be was so strange. "I...not remember"

I try and remember who I was before, but the more I tried, the more the thoughts and memories seemed to fade.

"I remember, Mei" I say, a smile forming on my face, a new name, yet it fit. It was like a switch had been pressed in my cranium, flushing away most of my knowledge.

The thought of who I was, Jake, was strange, like trying to remember something from another life, the more I thought about it, I could remember it, yet it felt unimportant.

I could remember who I was before, I just didn’t care right now and that was okay, that was perfect.

I see a handbag, and walk over, picking it up, the transformation had given me everything I needed.

It was filled with a few things.

I take the handbag, and begin to explore, looking around.

I find a mirror and look in, I was no longer a 40 year old white man with dark blonde hair and a short buzz cut, I was now a 18 year old Asian female prostitute, the transformation was perfect. My bag containing a passport and new ID, the ID showing my name as Mei Saetang, an Asian prostitute, my profession and job was listed, the age of 18 years old.

The handbag also contained a few other items, condoms, cigarettes, a small amount of currency and a small makeup kit.

Suddenly the penthouse felt strange to me, no longer belonging, and it felt too expensive for my new form.

"I want to leave" I think (in fluent Thai), looking around. "I should find the elevator"

I leave the room, taking the room keycard and medallion in my new handbag, finding myself quickly adapting to the shoes, the heels and the latex were so comfortable, a natural fit, it was like they were made for me.

I drowned my fear of being seen as my hazy mind reasoned that if anyone saw a Thai hooker leaving the penthouse they would just think I was leaving a customer.

The heels were surprisingly easy to walk in, and as I walked I could feel the latex rubbing on the skin of my thighs, the shorts so tight that every time I walked I could feel the fabric of the latex thong riding into my new pussy.

The elevator door opened, and I walked in, partly glad it was empty yet at the same time feeling strangely like I wished someone was there to observe my new body. Pushing the button to go down, and as I rode the elevator, I could feel the cool air conditioning against my skin, and the feeling of the latex clinging to my skin felt good.

Ding

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, walking to the exit of the hotel.

The lobby was busy, a lot of people, and the feeling of being stared at, but my hazy mind wasn’t bothered by it, I even could make out some English words that some of them were saying, feeling strange how I only understood the odd word here or there but the word 'slut' and 'whore' were still familiar to my new cortex. I giggled knowing they thought I was a prostitute, one that had just finished with a client who had brought her back to their hotel room.

I felt a sudden surge of wetness between my legs, a damp patch forming on the thong.

Walking out the door and into the street, I knew where to go. I needed to find the redlight district, the night was still young, and I could already feel the excitement and anticipation building, I was going to get fucked a lot, and soon. Noticing how short my new body was, the street seemed a lot bigger, the world around me a lot larger, the men all around me so much taller. Their smell strangely new and strong to my petite nose. Yet strangely it smelt comforting.

As I walked along the streets, the warm evening air brushing against my bare shoulders, I could hear some cat calls and whistles. A sign I was getting close.

It wasn’t long until the crowds parted, and I could see one of Bangkok’s famed locations. The red light district.

It was like entering a whole different world, the smell of sweat and sex.

The sound of music and laughter, the neon lights and the flashing signs, and the many brothels, bars and strip clubs, it was like a dream come true. My heels clicking on the stone pavement as I walked, the air was filled with the smell of cigarettes and the sounds of sex.

The street was packed, the sidewalks were crowded with young women, much like myself, the other girls all dressed in skimpy dresses or short skirts and some dressed in lingerie.

They were all prostitutes, and some of the women were standing out in the open, talking to potential customers.

As I walked, a few of the girls glanced over at me, giving me a look only reserved for competition.

Some were even glaring.

The girls all dressed in slutty outfits, they were all working the street, some were standing out on the sidewalk, trying to attract the attention of the male customers, trying to get them to buy their bodies.

And yet I was starting to feel strangely comforted by the scene around me.

A few men looked at me, their eyes scanning my body, and I felt a strange surge of arousal, their stares feeling more and more intense, and a small group of men, wearing smart suits, looking foreign, started to walk over, the sight causing me to stop and smile at them. Internally I had just recognised them as 'foreigners' as though I had always been Thai, causing my nethers to clench even more.

This was it, my first potential customer, I could feel a surge of emotions, a mixture of apprehension, nervousness, fear and excitement, all fighting for control.

What left my mouth as they approached was the most stereotypical possible thing I could imagine a hooker would say.

"Want good time?" I ask them, speaking in broken English, a cute thick accent.

It was the most obvious thing that came to mind.

One of them answered, speaking in English, his words were slightly slurred, he had clearly been drinking.

"Yeah we want a good time, how much is it, you're a cheap one aren't ya, I bet your really loose as well" he laughed.

I smile up at him, fluttering my eyelashes, yet not understanding most of what he said besides the words 'yeah', 'how much ‘and 'cheap'. I lean presenting my chest at the most sensual angle I can for him, feeling him tower over me only making my womb tingle and rev harder.

"Me cheap" I say, a cute giggle, "me do good time, and me very good."

My words were broken and accented, my brain no longer able to speak English fluently, only understanding a little, and what I did understand made little sense. But I did know that the way I was talking likely turned them on no end. My mind telling me men like it when I make myself seem dumber than them.

One of the men leaned in, and whispered into my ear, his hot breath on my skin, sending a shiver up my spine, a strange wave of emotion washed over me as my crotch felt a fire light in it.

"So what can you do for us" the man whispers into my ear, his lips so close to my petite ear, I didn’t really know what he was asking but I assumed it was price.

"Me do good time 500 baht each handsome man" I say, giggling and smiling up at him, my large eyes meeting his.

To them I was just a cute Asian prostitute and they wanted to be serviced by a cute, submissive, young and dumb whore. How lucky for them that’s what I am now.

The man who had whispered into my ear, smiled, and leaned back. Looking at his well dressed buddy before looking back at the petite hooker in front of him.

"Okay 500 baht each, how much for both of us to double team you?"

I smiled up at him, and nodded, "me love you, me give special offer, me take both for 700 baht yes? Me think both very handsome with big cock" my nethers tingles at my own accent and statement, my brain praying it was true.

He grinned, "Deal" he said, "lets go to our hotel, its close"

He took my side and placed a hand on my ass as he lead me away, his friend putting a hand over my petite shoulders

I could feel a strange wetness in my pussy, the thong clinging tightly between the delicate lips.

There was no doubt the men were horny and wanted to fuck me, and I was going to give them a good time, it was my job.

"We have a suite in the Hilton, its just down the road, follow us" the man says, squeezing and leading me my the ass. It was demeaning but it felt so good, like I was being owned and dominated.

The other man was on my right, his hand resting on my petite shoulders, his arm so much larger than mine.

They both lead me away, down the street, to an all to familiar sight.

I could see the hotel, the familiar logo.

Hilton Hotel Bangkok.

The sight sent a shiver up my spine, my mind flashing back, remembering, I was staying there myself, before I had used the medallion, and now I’m being lead to the same place, only as a prostitute.

I was so short, only coming up to the men's chests, and the two were well built, they could easily overpower me, and a strange thought crossed my mind.

I would happily let them.

That was my purpose now, and I could feel a growing excitement and arousal as we walked.

We walked into the building, and the sight of the reception area was one I recognised.

"Hello Sirs, welcome back to the hotel," they are greeted, the receptionist was a middle aged woman. She was dressed in a formal business suit. Her eyes shift down towards me, I could feel her judge me, glaring at me knowing what they would do to me soon enough in the privacy of their room. Clearly disgusted at this girl in front of hers life choices.

The men simply nodded, leading me past the counter and towards the elevators.

The elevator doors opened, and the man with a hand on my ass guided me in, his friend joining us, and the other man pressed the button. The doors closed and the elevator began to move, the feeling of being trapped in a small box with two dominant males was intoxicating, the heat radiating off them was amazing, and my nose could smell the scent of their cologne, it was a musky masculine smell.

The feeling of the soft hand on my ass, slowly kneading the soft flesh through the latex. I let out a high pitch moan. My legs rubbing together involuntarily.

I could feel the juices trickle from my pussy, the thong already damp, and the hand slowly moved downwards, sliding under the short shorts, moving inwards, until a finger brushed against the soft lips, the man's thumb finding the sensitive clit, and rubbing it through the fabric, sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

I couldn’t hold it, I had no willpower, my body had been reduced to that of a young woman, and I had no more control.

I moaned loudly, a loud, sensual and girly moan.

I was putty in the men's hands, and I didn’t care, it was what I wanted in that moment.

Ding

The elevator doors opened, and the two men led the way, the one holding my ass leading me by the pussy, his fingers stroking the sensitive bud, as the other walked still had his hands over my shoulder leaning in for a drunken kiss.

I kissed him back, a sensual open mouthed kiss, the alcohol on his breath was strong, but I didn’t mind, my body was on fire, my heart pounding, and I could feel his hand squeeze my shoulder closer before it went under and slid up and under my cropped top.

Breaking the kiss and letting out a gasp, the man's hand found the small, sensitive, perky nipple and he began to play with it, flicking and rubbing.

"Lets get you to our suite baby girl, we'll show you a good time" the man

They lead me to a door, and one of them unlocked it, the man behind me pulled his hand from under the short shorts and pulled the keycard from the pocket.

He opened the door and the three of us entered.

The room was big and luxurious, a huge king size bed in the middle of the room. I gulped, this was really happening, I’m going to be fucked.

The man who was behind me, shut the door, and the man who was at my side, led me over to the bed.

"Take a seat baby" the man says. I look up at him in confusion then watch his gestures, realising that he was commanding me onto the bed.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, my ass feeling like a cushion beneath me, and look up at the men, they are so much taller, so much bigger, and a part of me just wants to give myself up, to be at their mercy, the thought alone making me feel tingly all over.

The two men start to unbuckle their belts and remove their pants, the bulges are so clear, and it's so obvious they are rock hard, they are both wearing smart trousers, and I can tell they are western men, maybe Americans, judging by their appearances, they seem familiar, my mind suddenly resurfacing shaking hands with them but their names no longer came to mind, I had met them at the conference today. they were some big wig executives of some company I had just bought, I had been a multi millionaire CEO, and now I’m reduced to being an unassuming whore in their hotel room.

It was almost a dream come true.

As the two men drop their pants and pull out their cocks, the sight makes me gasp, they are so huge, and so thick.

"Me like" I say, licking my lips, unable to keep my eyes off them. A strange desire id never had surfacing in the moment.

Watching them grow, understanding that it was me that had made them grow. My body, my purpose was to please men, and it was true to purpose, evident by the swollen Falas before me.

The one who had grabbed my ass, the one with the slightly longer hair and darker skin, stepped closer, his cock was so big and thick, it was almost intimidating.

The other got on the bed behind me.

"What’s your name, baby girl?" the man asked.

I look up at him, confused, I had no idea what he was asking, his words seemed foreign and confusing. My arousal in the moment lowering my comprehension further.

"My name" the man in front of me said, repeating the question, "tell us your name"

My brain finally realising what he’s asking.

"Me name Mei" I say, my voice coming out more high pitched, sounding cute.

I smile, and lean forward, the heels making my feet arch up, making me seem even more submissive, I rest a gloved hand on my knees, smiling blissfully dumbly up at him.

He smiles, and leans in, placing a hand on the side of my face, and kisses me on the lips, his tongue entering my mouth, the kiss was so intense, the alcohol on his breath less strong than the others, and his hand reached around and cupped the back of my head, pulling me into him, my body, my purpose was to be submissive and obey, and so I gave into the kiss.

Our tongues danced and fought for dominance, his tongue was so dominant, and I could feel a heat inside me.

"Now get on your hands and knees, ill take your pussy and my friend will take pretty little mouth and fuck it" the man says.

The men's commands were so dominant and powerful, and the words made sense to me, I couldn’t remember understand the sounds but the meaning was clear.

I nod, and stand up, turning around and getting onto the bed. I turn around and get onto the bed, onto my hands and knees, presenting myself, I was his, my pussy was his, and my mouth was his friends. All for just 700 baht, the cost of the sex.

The man in front of me slowly edges forward, his one eyed monster staring me in the face, my eyes transfixed on it.

Behind me the client looks down at me grabbing my petite waist, pulling the latex short shorts down, the cool air hitting my bare pussy and its sensitive lips.

"Your such a slut" the man says, his hands on the soft hips before swatting my ass causing it to jiggle pleasantly with a 'Plap' , as the other moves forward, the man's large, swollen, and throbbing member was right in front of my face.

There was no escape, no stopping the inevitable, and all I could think about was pleasing these two men, giving them a good time.

My body was trembling in excitement and anticipation, as I could feel the other man's hands grab my hips, Condom freshly placed , guiding himself up to my puffy rose,, teasing it as he rubs the hard member against my softness. The sensations controlling my whole world, I pull myself back to reality, reminding myself the man in front of me also need attention.

Leaning forward letting out a small moan, kissing its tip between my plump lips.

my huge almond shapes eyes gazing up at him as I stick my tongue out, and run it around the tip of his cock, a strange salty taste. But my body couldn’t get enough.

"Oh fuck" the man groaned, "she is a fucking slut"

I giggle, a high pitch feminine giggle, and move my head forward, kissing the swollen tip before finally engulfing it, careful to avoid touching it with my teeth, and began to suck, slowly bobbing my head, the sensation of having the tip of his cock inside my mouth and the taste, it was like nothing else.

My whole world was now this, to please men, to have men dominate me.

Finally having had enough of the teasing the man behind me plunges in, his condom ribbed member plunging into my wet, tight and delicate pussy.

The sudden sensation, and the feeling of fullness, his cock so much larger than I had anticipated. I let out a loud, girly and pleasurable moan, the sensation almost making me climax. On the spot as I moan on the rod in my mouth, sending pleasant vibrations throughout the man's cock.

The feeling of being penetrated in both holes, the man behind me, his throbbing cock plunging in and out of my pussy, his hands gripping my soft petite waist.

"Fuck she's a slut, you really know how to pick them," the man I was sucking exclaims with a deep grunt

"Yeah, she is the perfect little Asian whore, I tell you man, the women here hit different."

The sound of their voices, their accents, they sounded pleased with my body, only making me more enthusiastic.

"You think her tits are real?"

"Who cares man, her ass is a work of art, I would love to cum on that."

'SLAP' he emphasized the word with a smack of my ass. It didn’t stop, my muscles down below clenching around the member. Massaging it in a fashion only a woman could.

"I'm getting close." the man grunted, his cock twitching and swelling inside me, as if the sensation wasn’t already driving me wild, the sensations and his grunts making it more intense, my own climax rising to meet it. Gazing up at the man in front of me, letting him know I was his in the moment, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Behind I could feel the hot liquid shoot from his cock, the condom preventing any leakage, and I could feel it pulsating inside me. The feeling and his grunts and groans making me reach my own climax, the most intense one of my life. A constant wave of pleasure running through me.

"Me too" the man I was sucking called out.

A pulsating sensation, a swelling before I could feel a warmth on the roof of my mouth and a salty taste, the sensation of the man Cumming, his cock throbbing in my mouth, shooting his seed into my throat, his musk filling my mouth.

I push myself down onto it to its base, making sure not to let it leak. Finally the pulsating stops and I pull myself off it with a gasp. Opening my mouth, my gaze locked with him, showing him my prize.

"Swallow it" the man commands.

And so I do, the sensation strange, the taste not the best but I swallow all of it, the man's essence disappearing down my throat. I finish gulping dramatically before I once again open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out to show him.

"Good girl" he says, his hand petting my jet black hair, the sensation of the touch was nice, his hand moving down and stroking my face. The men get up and one rummages in his wallet, the other pulls the condom off his softening member, smirking before tying a knot in it. Before handing it to me, "for later slut, when your hungry" I don’t understand the words but I take my prize.

The man gets a wad of bills and puts it between my tits.

"Thats a good slut, and we'll see you again if you are still around this week" the man says. I giggle vapidly, being demeaned as the notes are shoved between my tits, the cool paper touching my skin, making me shudder, and I can feel the man's finger stroke the top of my cleavage. Not understanding what he said but having an inkling that I would be seeing them again before the week was over.

My first job complete, I had been transformed and fucked, and I was happy, a feeling of contentment, the money shoved between my tits a sign of a job well done. I was 700 baht richer.

I stood up, taking the wad of money in the middle of my chest and the condom still tied at the end and placed them in my handbag. Quickly shimmying the short shorts back over my caboose, before bowing to the men and strutting out of the room giving them another smile and a wiggle of my hips on the way out.

Walking back towards the elevator, I press the button, the door opening and I step inside, a feeling of happiness, and the feeling of being used. I felt like a woman.

In that moment my mind rushes back to me, my male one. My thoughts rush back to me and I can see it in the reflection of the mirror, my eyes widening. There was a woman, a young Thai prostitute, a hooker, in the elevator mirror, her hair messy and a blush and smile on her dazed face.

The realisation that that was me hit, the realisation that id almost lost control, I scramble with the elevator controls, leaning forward awkwardly in my heels, the short shorts hugging the round and full cheeks of my ass, I had lost control, my mind had been so easily subverted.

The doors opened and I rushed out into the penthouse floor, my key card granting me access, panting as I enter the huge room slamming the door behind me.

I rush towards the bathroom, the huge room, a mirror on the ceiling above the bed, the huge bed and the view through the huge window looking over the city, the skyline at night, pulling out the medallion and willing myself back to how I was before.

A flash and the sensation and sight of me expanding, my clothes tightening before shifting into my old business suit as I return to my form.

My mind returning and I breathe heavily.

I had just turned into a whore and almost lost control, the experience was exhilarating, the transformation was so quick, so instant, I had loved every second of it, the lack of control,

The experience, the sensation, the feelings, and the powerlessness I had felt, the pleasure and the domination by others.

Sweat runs down my wrinkled forehead as I sit up straight, the suit now feeling tight, a discomfort in the front. I unbuckle and loosen the belt, the front of my trousers tenting forward, the tent in my crotch couldn’t be contained as I recall what I had just experienced.

I was me again, I breathe with a sigh of relief.

Yet a nagging sensation pulled at me, seeing the condom still full made something inside me itch for more.

I had to go back. This wasn’t the last time, it was the first.

I had to do this again, it was so intense.

I had a week of the conference ahead of me

This was only the first day, and I was in control, I had a week.

I had a whole week with the medallion, and the thought made me tingle all over.

Id be seeing Mei again soon enough.

[trigunsbbygirl]

If you’re open for requests could I get a part 2 to Nai being isekaid onto Earth? Maybe when he starts to adapt and get used to the concept? Thank you and feel free to ignore if your requests are closed!

I've seen so many drawings of Knives working fast food on twt and its so fucking funny I love it so much. he would evaporate if he worked in my city during tourist season. but anyways, always down to talk about reverse isekai. hope you enjoy it!!

•it doesn't take long for Knives to get used to how things work on Earth. in fact, he finds a few similarities on Earth and Gunsmoke: you go to school, graduate, get a job, pay bills, buy groceries and so on.

•it's the way the corporate world, government and social media works that he has a bit of a harder time understanding? Knives gets it, he understands the concept and how greed consumes but he's still baffled by it all.

•I won't get into much politics or the saddening things that are happening around the world, but every once in a while, when watching the news, Knives will turn to you and just say 'I am considering returning to my old ways.' and you just hum in agreement.

•he also has a hard time adjusting to being around so many people almost all the time now. even though he stays inside your home most of the time he can still hear people talking, cars driving by and airplanes. it takes him a while to get used to all the noise.

•Knives only really goes shopping with you out of curiosity. he wants to see all the things that are on Earth even if he says he doesn't care. (overtime he starts going with you to make sure you're safe and that he can protect you.)

•I think he'd quite like farmers markets though. it may be busy but he can push through it for the fresh food.

•this man has zero online presence. the only account he would ever have is a youtube account if you and Vash (mainly Vash) managed to convince him to make one to post his music. other than that, he refuses to make accounts for Twitter or Instagram. he sees no point in it.

•Knives doesn't use a diary, but he does write what he did that day on the calendar app. his notes are very blunt too, 'went to zoo. interesting animals.' 'went grocery shopping. boring.' 'celebrated their birthday.. was fun.'

•he also doesn't text much and when he does the messages are short and straight to the point. "what do you want for dinner?" "when are you coming back home?" "we are out of x, pick some up on your way home." and he leaves you on read a lot too.

•also uses proper punctuation and dots the ends of his sentences. he rarely uses abbreviations and slang. the first time Knives used lol you acted like it was the biggest thing ever and he just replied 'stop freaking out.' then promptly left you on read.

•now let's say Knives somehow gets an ID, ssn and all that stuff. like the universe said go help pay bills and gifted him those stuff or smth.

•I've been seeing Twitter talk about Knives working at McDonald's in a modern au and yeah that's funny, but this is a reverse isekai and Knives is still dealing with his kill all humans mentality. if he worked customer service or at a restaurant he may genuinely say fuck the military consequences and consider mass genocide after one too many bad encounters. plus Knives would just be like 'why would I serve an inferior being?'

•but I could see him working at a small local book store or library. it's quiet, not too busy and Knives gets to easily learn about new books or books he may never have ended up hearing about. not much really happens, but one day more people than usual come in to buy a certain book. Knives mentions it to you and you have to explain how a Trigun fan account recommended 'This is How You Lose the Time War.' he has to take a second to take the information in.(I'm so sorry I just had to add this in nsvsjwhks- iykyk-)

•he still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that people enjoy Trigun. Knives tries not to think about it a lot, it weirds him out. the fact that a lot of people know about his past, trauma, and apparently, future makes him feel a little queasy and gross. he knows there's nothing he could've done and though no one knows he's actually there, it's still really invasive to him.

•anyways, if Knives learned how to drive, he would be very responsible. the only time he'd break any laws is speeding 10 mph above the speed limit on the highway, but everyone does that so he just joined in.

•whenever someone near him is driving like an asshole he sits there with a death glare. he's there thinking, 'I could ruin your car with my blades. I won't, but I could.' (he wishes he could but he knows many cars have a dashcam and that would cause bigger problems than just legal ones.)

•if it weren't for him living at your place, Knives would have little to no decorations in his home. maybe a few plants and coasters on the tables and books that he likes on a bookshelf, but that's kinda it. he might frame some of his paintings and hang them up. (I can see him with hanging vine plants)

•he gets into gardening a little, maybe hydroponics. Knives doesn't really want a big garden, but he'd like to grow a few vegetables and herbs.

•Knives still doesn't sleep, but over time he will join you for bed and cuddle you as you fall asleep. though after a while, Knives will get out of bed to do his own things. it takes a while for him to get into the idea of just sleeping, but he starts to indulge himself as he realizes how comforting it is to lay with you and rest.

•he starts to surprise you with romantic dinners, like he'll have candles lit up, a slow melody playing in the background. afterwards Knives will draw a bath for you and if you want him to, he'd gladly join you. either way, he's helping you wash up, telling you to just rest after the day you've had. it's the least he could since he can't work.

•overall he does end up adjusting quite well, it just takes him a long time to accept that he does have to live among humans and that the goal he's been working towards for years is practically undoable now. and it takes even longer to start indulging himself in other hobbies and his emotions that start to grow. (although I think his view on humans won't exactly change. but he acknowledges that there are people who are fighting for the greater good.)

[aropride]

thinking abt this again bc genuinely most of these are like. necessary or at least Highly Preferred which is part of why im trapped in a sisyphean cycle of living at home with no job. like.

no phone call no email -> really bad at these due to the autism and will leave them undealt with and unresponded to and often unread/unlistened to for days if not weeks. not an employable trait. i can do email if needed but it sucks. phone call is my worst enemy

no talking to people -> i worked at goodwill for 3 weeks and had to work register like 5 times maybe and each time was one of the worst experiences of my life i mean that. never again. i cant do it id rather die

no schedule -> i hate schedule i love schedule i would kill schedule just to revive her again with a passionate kiss. i need schedule but not too much and not too little and also i need to make the schedule. unemployable trait

no computer programming or sex work -> personal preference. im really hot so i could be a computer programmer and i am intrigued by the concept of programming so sex work is theoretically an option but due to how my brain works and experiences in my youth id rather not

no youtube -> i grow more suspicious of social media by the day. also i think being popular online enough to make a living would wreck my mental health in new and exciting ways. also i dont like how i look or sound in videos. and i dont own a ring light

no band -> i dont have any of the skills required to start a band

no leaving my house -> i would love to leave my house this one is a necessity bc i cant drive and wouldnt have a car to drive anyway. and my mother isnt a fan of driving me places and my dads work schedule probably wouldnt allow for it

no one gets mad at me -> pplease. No consequences No criticism No mad at me No mean to me No scaring me No yelling at me. unemployable request

$27 an hour -> minimum wage here is like $13 now and i’d like $15 an hour at least. makes for easy math. $20 is even easier but im not a rocket surgeon

Other notes:

NO furry art (i love you furry art creators i just dont have that skill set). NO dishwasher (bad for my mental health). NO job that is actually 5 jobs (if im paid to mow lawns i dont want to also have to advertise and talk to people and deal with customers and buy new lawnmower parts etc just let me loose on the damn lawn). NO cant sit down (i get dizzy and tired and my legs and feet and body hurt). NO math (i dont have math autism). Etc.

[sienneang2000]

The complete guide on how to rent a car in Albania.

This is the only article you will need on how to book a rental car. In this article, you will find a simple guide on how to make a simple and quick reservation for a car rental in Albania. This writing is perfect not only for car renters but for anyone looking to better understand the car rental process.

1. Check online and make an online reservation for the car rental you need.

2. Clarify every detail and ask if there are any extra costs.

3. Contact the company to confirm the reservation.

4. Ask for every detail in advance about the reservation you just made.

5. Send the necessary documents to the company:

– photo of your ID card

– photo of your driver’s license

– phone number

– photo or a flight code (optional but helps the staff to check your landing online)

– prepayment guarantee if you are booking for peak months or several months in advance.

6. Clarify how and where you will take the car.

7. When arriving at the destination, contact the company.

8. Read the contract before signing.

9. Make a short video of the condition of the vehicle and how you received it.

10. If you are confident when driving a car, do not buy the additional insurance that companies definitely want to sell you to increase their profit, but always consider it.

11. Before departure,save a contact for support during the trip just in case.

12. Wash the vehicle before returning to avoid cleaning fees.

13. Deliver the car to the same place where you received it or agree on another optional place.

14. Allow 15 minutes for both pick-up and drop-off to manage your time.

15. Leave a review for the company to perfect their service based on your recommendations.

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