#hard cash loans

[vpcapital]

Using Your Debt-to-Income Ratio to Assess Your Eligibility for a Commercial Hard Money Loan

Your debt-to-income (DTI) ratio is one of the most important factors that lenders consider when determining whether to grant you a loan from a commercial hard money organization. This significant figure reveals the percentage of your income that is allocated to debt repayment. This blog post will explain how to calculate your DTI, what constitutes a reasonable ratio, and how analyzing this number can assist you in determining whether using a hard money business loan to finance your next project or the acquisition of commercial real estate is the best course of action.

Why is the debt-to-income ratio important and what does it mean?

Your monthly gross income is divided by the total amount of debt you pay off each month to determine your DTI ratio. The expressed value is a computed percentage.

Reputable Hard Partners in Partnership Investors in Cash

As important as determining whether this finance fits well with your DTI and overall financial profile is choosing the appropriate commercial hard money lenders as partners. Different hard money lenders have different characteristics. Make sure you carefully vet potential lenders before choosing one that provides:

• Adequately structured competitive rates and fees

• Adjustable qualification based on circumstances

• Fair terms and LTV ratios

• An integrity-based reputation

Working with investors such as yourself, VP Capital Lending has facilitated deals swiftly and effectively as skilled hard money lenders and commercial real estate financing experts. We can provide you with a tailored financing option for your next project after doing a comprehensive assessment of your current DTI situation. Reach us right away!

As important as determining whether this finance fits well with your DTI and overall financial profile is choosing the appropriate commercial hard money lenders as partners. Different hard money lenders have different characteristics. Make sure you carefully vet potential lenders before choosing one that provides:

• Adequately structured competitive rates and fees

• Adjustable qualification based on circumstances

• Fair terms and LTV ratios

• An integrity-based reputation

Working with investors such as yourself, VP Capital Lending has facilitated deals swiftly and effectively as skilled hard money lenders and commercial real estate financing experts. We can provide you with a tailored financing option for your next project after doing a comprehensive assessment of your current DTI situation. Reach us right away!

[so-very-small]

it’s just. when someone makes you feel small. not necessarily by like looming or even anything physical, but when someone takes care of you or is kind to you in a certain way, and suddenly you feel two inches tall on their palm. utterly safe and taken care of.

it’s such a hard feeling to describe but when someone makes you feel tiny in that good little way it’s. there’s nothing better.

[euesworld]

You can click here to sign up and when you take out your first cash advance, we both get $15 💰 🤑 💰🤑 you can get up to $500 with NO INTEREST!! Download the Dave app with the little bear and then come back and click on the link to qualify for the free $15.

[accolend]

[hardmoneymarket]

Essential Considerations for Refinancing Your Commercial Property | Hardmoney Market

Discover the essential factors to consider when refinancing your commercial property, including interest rates, loan terms, and property value, to maximize your investment returns.

[the-merchant-cash-ceo]

owning and running your own merchant cash advance business

i dont know were this is going to go but i guess i can use this as a way to express my thoughts is hard running your own business its even harder when you running a business about money as a owner sometimes you want things your way but i feel like some times you just have to let things go and like they say put it in gods hands some times you have to be firm and some times you got to be light hearted but you want to make sure you dont get stepped on if you make money and your guys dont hit there mark you cant celebrate be cause you become a show off its more than my self i know but i look to maximize every opportunity and some ppl dont get the bigger picture but as i turn in to a ceo there are tons of hurdles but we have to man up keep the money coming in in order for the business to bloom id like the world to share some of there experiences as owners so i dont feel like im the only one should i just let my management do what they want if i do i feel like i lose power what do you guys think

[natalieironside]

So I used to be a pizza deliver driver, and that was pretty great for me; it made me feel like a video game character doing Quests. And when you started your shift as a driver, you got a wad of 15 singles for making change which was deducted from your tips at the end of the night. And this was back in the very early 20teens so $15 American just so happened to also be the price of half a tank of gas and a pack of Marlboro reds, so it was often also a sort of interest-free loan.

Now, a trope in pornography which was once so common that I myself have never actually seen a genuine portrayal of it but only seen it parodied runs thusly: A brave hero is delivering a pizza to some beautiful person who, upon receipt of the pizza, says, "Unfortunately I don't have any money; could I perhaps cover the cost of the pizza with sexual favors?" And always the hero agrees to this Faustian bargain which I'm sure must seem quite reasonable to you uninitiated civilians.

But, see, I'm making minimum wage. I have no savings. And I already spent my bank on half a tank of gas and a pack of Marlboro reds. So I'm $15 in the hole, and do you know what happens when you don't cash out at the end of the night? The manager calls the cops, and the cops come to your house. Mr. Domino is gonna get his $15 back by hook or by crook. I seen it happen. So if I accept the beautiful person's modest proposal, I'm mortgaging future tips against the $15 *and* the price of the pizza--which can get up there, depending on the order--and if I don't fix those books by the end of my shift, that could get to be a real pain in my ass.

Just doesn't make sense, y'know, from like a business perspective. Maybe it'd be worth a gamble. Maybe if it was like a beautiful woman who was a service top and also a werewolf, maybe you roll the dice and hope for the hard 6. But you gotta be risk-aware, is all I'm sayin.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP fanfic Idea: Side Hustle

Barry needs more cash.

It's not that he is struggling, but unlike Bruce, he had student loans, a mortgage, and all the medical bills for Iris to consider. Even with his wife working, he knew they needed to keep a tight grip on their spending to ensure they didn't fall from the yellow into the red.

This means that sometimes he had to watch Wally's face fall when he admitted he couldn't afford to give him an allowance or even some money to go to the mall with his friends. It's not that his nephew complains—Wally is a very understanding young man—but it still tears Barry up inside to disappoint him.

Significantly when, their hero work cut so deeply into their funds just to keep their speedster metabolism under control. If he hadn't done his foolish experiment, Wally wouldn't be in danger of starvation for following his example.

Blood or not, Wally is like a son to him, and the idea that he can only provide the bare basics is painful. He has a high-paying job now, but it will take a while to get all his debt from when he was a student under control.

Before he married Iris, he was okay with that. He now had a wife and son who depended on him, and he couldn't wait around, hoping things would pick up after a few years.

He managed to pay off most of Iris' medical bills, and the house was an excellent step up from the cramped two-room apartment they shared when they were engaged. Barry knew that these two things were good, but he could do better.

That's how he applied as a research assistant to a strange family company called Fenton Works. The pay was decent, and it was only a short hour's drive from his home—he speed-ran it in five, but he needed a realistic distance to keep his ID protected. And best of all?

He mostly did office work. Half the time, he was allowed to do remote work documenting research data and organizing the owner's inventions and patents.

There were many funds coming from said patents and inventions. If the Fentons weren't so busy spending the money to fund their ghost research—the power grid they needed for the portal alone was almost as much as Barry's entire mortgage—then they could easily be among the few in Bruce's fancy galas.

Barry will admit that he was surprised to learn that Mr. Fenton had a PhD in engineering, applied physics, and robotics. Mrs. Fenton had a PhD in nuclear physics, functional analysis, and renewable energy. Both were currently working on getting a PhD in some form of biology, and Barry was flabbergasted that they spoke about it the same way people casually decided to start a new hobby.

It was hard, but they had the money to just sign up for classes. He wept into his student loan reminders whenever he thought about it.

They made the perfect team- one thought up the idea, and the other created a physical form while they ensured it worked together.

He knew his bosses were certified geniuses who appeared goofy was one thing, but to be confronted with their degrees stuffed away in a storage box was another thing. He hadn't even meant to find them since he had gone in there with Danny- his boss's kid- to find some paper research Dr. Jack Fenton needed.

It was even more shocking to find that Dr. Jack had sold some of his systematics to Wayne Enterprises and that Bruce had used some of his robotics theories in his Batman gear.

It also seemed that most of the Amity Park were unaware of how intelligent the Fentons were. When he was out and about in the city, he kept getting pitying looks for working for the local freaks. It was honestly shocking.

People talked about Jasmine Fenton's bright future, the only hope among the family, in the same breath as calling Jack Fenton an idiot or Maddie Fenton a washed-up housewife. The things they had to say about Danny Fenton were far more disheartening.

Barry knows a thing or two about troubled youths as the Flash, and no matter what the town told him, Danny Fenton was not one of them.

It seemed to Barry that Danny was suffering from blatant bullying and the pressure of his family's shadow. Adding to the confusion of being in the middle of puberty, it created the perfect recipe for Danny to be spirling. It was a rough patch, and it led to him skipping class, dropping his grades, and ignoring his responsibilities.

He overheard the Fentons talking about Danny. Dr. Fentons was starting to grow worried since Danny had never behaved this way before high school while Jazz attempted to defend her brother and excuse his disappearance.

She seemed very aware of why her brother seemed to change.

On the other hand, Dr. Fenton wasn't and mentioned more than once that she and Danny were very close when he was a kid, but lately, he seemed to be shutting her out. Her husband admitted that he figured Danny had gotten a girlfriend- someone named Sam?- but he started to notice his son kept coming home with what appeared to be injuries.

Barry wasn't sure if they were aware that Danny was getting bullied. He was carefully filing some of the old cabinets when it clicked.

"Jazz?" He called out as the Fentons finally stop talking about Dnany's behavior and moved down to the lab. The teenager poked her head into the file office with a curious smile.

"Yes, Mr. Allen?" No matter how often he told her to call him Barry, she seemed determined to keep that barrier between them. Which was fair. After all, he was only around the house three or four times a week for a few hours.

"I have a question, so please feel free to not answer." He starts carefully to keep his tone light. Her smile turns strained at once, and Barry almost tells her to ignore it, but the thought of Wally being Danny's place makes him push on. "What is your family's stance on gay rights?"

Jazz blinked slowly, tilting her head. "I don't mind, and neither do my parents, I think. Why sir?"

"Just curious," Barry said, but mentally, he wondered if Danny knew that.

Jazz didn't look convinced, but she didn't push the issue as she wandered away with a respectful by-your-leave. He waited until she was upstairs before abandoning his work to find the Fentons.

Carefully, he started by updating them on his work, then casually dropped the mention of taking Wally to Pride so he wouldn't be able to work the following week. Neither Dr. so much as blinked, telling him that it was fine.

Barry felt it safe to keep pushing just a little.

"Yeah, I still remember how nervous Wally was about telling me he liked girls and boys." He chuckles. "As if though I didn't notice the signs."

Dr. Fenton raises a brow, face twisted in confusion as the large man turns to Barry. "What signs?"

"Mostly, he is trying to think of excuses to be with his friends more. He wasn't sleeping a lot, got into a bit of trouble in school when some kids were giving him grief, and oh, the way his eyes followed young men about." Barry said as casually as one could.

Dr. Fenton looks pensive. "Interesting."

Ah, it seemed she had picked up on the possibility of Danny not being as straight as he claimed. She thankfully didn't seem bothered by it.

"Jack, honey, you don't think Danny could be....?" She asked carefully.

Dr. Fenton ran a hand through his hair. "It could be. But why didn't he tell us?"

"Oh geez, I wonder why!" Jazz suddenly yells from the stairway. Barry twists around to find her standing there with a defensive glare. She has obviously been eavesdropping, but for how long? "What did you two expect with the way you talked around the house?!"

Dr. Fenton looked mystified. "Jazzy-pants, what are you talking about?"

His daughter only raises her fist, lowering her voice to mimic her father. "What are we doing today, Maddie? I know; how about we rip the ghost boy molecule by molecule!"

Barry's eyes grow wide. He had been working for the family for about six months and had encountered Phantom more than once. He even fought him off as Flash a few times since the ghost was hell-bent on robbing and property damage but was less dangerous than his rouges.

Dr. Fenton's face went pale as she clutched to the table. "Jazz you mean....Danny and Phantom...."

Jazz looked ready to fight them all as she bit out, "If you try to do anything to Danny, I swear-"

"We would never Jazzy-pants." Jack cut in, looking off Kindle. "To think my son was dating a ghost behind my back and I...I didn't even notice."

"Oh, Jack, we have to apologize," Maddie started. "Who knows if Danny could ever forgive us?"

Barry was thinking Flash also had to apologize. Based on their last encounter, Phantom would likely not be willing to hear him out. He quickly pulls out his phone to see if Wally and his team could get close enough to have him consider speaking to Barry.

None of the adults noticed the way Jazz froze in confusion, nor did they notice the slow horror growing on her face as they came to terms with Phantom and Danny dating.

[fiscuscapitalfunding]

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Get to know about Fiscus Financial and Funding services that include Merchant Cash Advances, Personal Loans, Equipment Financing, Business Credit Cards, Cash-Out Refinancing, Fix & Flip Financing, Hard Money Loans, International Real Estate, Accounts Receivable, etc.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia!Konig X Reader who borrowed money and now has no way to give it back (que to porno scene of her paying back with her bod-)

You knew borrowing money from someone like him was a bad idea. Worst idea you had in your life. Usually, when a person is having money troubles, they should come to the bank and ask for a loan nicely. Maybe talk to some friends and relatives. If anything, just come to some predatory cash transfer service. Of course, if you had any of those options available, you wouldn't be sitting on your knees now, sucking the dick of some ex-military asshole who decided that his PTSD and connections give him the right to police normal, law-obeying citizens. Of course, if you had literally any other option, you would have just gone with it. But it's not possible, not for you - and you needed money as fast as possible. Without any way of paying it back, you're surprised they didn't just kill you outright and then harvest your organs.

"Come on, Schatzi. Be nice and I won't sell you, ja?" There is a gun nudging in your forehead as you suck deeper, trying so hard not to choke. The man - Konig, fittingly, although you fucking hated that stupid name - was enjoying the struggle you put on as you tried to deep-throat his beast of a cock. It's too much, he is choking you without even moving - but you want to be good because otherwise, you'd be dead. And this is...well, not an option. Not even in the slightest. He promised that he wouldn't sell you for organ harvest and wouldn't kill you if you were good for him. He said you're cute, cuter than the usual borrowers. He mumbles something about the last girl he had running away after they found out what he did - but you won't be like this, surely, you already know who he is, and you aren't scared. It's weird, to listen to his mumbles like you're already together - and you don't want to be like this, but he almost sounds...hopeful. Happy. He pats your head with his gun and you can hear a smile in his voice. Nice, kind words covering you - something about giving you more time to pay out the debt. Something about leaving you with him, since he does needs an arm candy. You can refuse - if you have money to pay out, of course. You don't. Looks like Vienna's criminal scene will finally open up to you.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Peach Part 1 of 2 (Rafe Cameron Two Shot) +18

+ 18 Minor DNI

CollegeStudent!Rafe x Ward’sSugarBaby!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

📖 Rafe has a thing for his dad’s sugar baby (reader)

🪄 Warnings: somnophilia (lol), secluded yet public oral, cheating, swearing, degradation, name-calling, pet names, oral (fem. receiving), oral (male receiving), ownership kink, reader’s a sugar baby, rough sex, nipple play, choking, creampie, & cum play, no use of y/n but everyone refers to her as the pet name Peach, softish rafe but he’s kinda mean here and ther

✨ Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation. ✨

2K

Reader’s POV:

“I mean it is a little much for Midsommers, Peach, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Ward gives you a cheeky smile as he unwinds a little more on the dressing room couch, eyes combing over your curves from the reflection of the mirror. “I love dressing you up, princess. Love showing off my little doll around the fellas. Can you blame me? You’re flawless.” He winks and smiles as he lifts his champagne flute to his lips, taking a sip.

“Thank you. I love it,” you praise, running your hands down the delicate black satin, purposely running over the fullness of your breasts, guiding his focus off your eyes. “I think this will go really well with those black Jimmy Choo pumps you bought me.”

Ward smiles and shakes his head ‘no’ as he crosses his strong arms over his chest. “Do you think I’m going let you re-wear a pair of date night heels, baby? We need to buy you somethin’ new. You deserve it. Very sweet for you to be mindful of Daddy’s pocket,” he lauds as he taps the wallet tucked into the pocket of his designer blazer. “That’s just one of the many, many reasons you have my heart, sugar,” Ward mumbles as he rises to his feet, eyes trained on your body. “That, and the fact that I just can’t believe you’re mine,” he mumbles before his lips meet your neck, kissing gently as he works his way to your ear. “I love takin’ care of you.” You tip your head slightly, resting your cheek against his, the two of you matching each other’s gaze in the mirror.

“We look good together, Cameron,” you coo. He wraps his arms around you, kissing your bare shoulder before resting his chin on top.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, Peach. This looks so pretty on you. You’re stunning. You probably need something just as pretty underneath. Don’t you agree?”

You nuzzle into his cheek, making him chuckle warmly. “You spoil me, daddy… Of course, I agree. Something pretty you can take off me later,” you flirt, just stoking the fire.

“Baby girl…” He gushes, the apples of his cheeks reddening.

“Sorry… I can’t help it.”

“No, baby. I love it. Oh, I booked a hair and nail appointment for you, so I won’t see you until you arrive. I have to be at the Island Club a little early. You can just catch a ride with Rafe. I’ll meet you at the car and we can walk in together. Alright?”

You fix your face, trying your best to seem unfazed by even the mere mention of his son’s name.

Rafe Cameron…

Truthfully, I was about to make my move during parents’ weekend. Then, I laid eyes on Ward. Rafe’s old man… handsome, sweet, thoughtful. It was too hard to pass up the chance to be taken care of. And, taken care of I was. Student loan debt canceled, school-year paid in cash, trips, lavish dinners, anything and everything his little Peach wants she gets. But even with all of that, I can’t help but be drawn to Rafe. I still get butterflies when he passes me on his way to class or when he looks my way in the library.

Even after I got with Ward I’d still try to finagle my way into staying on campus for the weekend so I could hit up a house party or bump into him at the bar. Ward made sure that didn’t happen, pleading with me to spend most of my free time at Tanneyhill. Ward is so sweet when he begs. And, how can I possibly deny the man cutting the checks?

“Peach? Is that okay? He seemed pretty happy about getting to know you a little better,” Ward smiles as he fixes the strap of your gown.

“No, Daddy. It’s perfect.”

You look down at the vanity, watching your phone buzz. Your heart skips a beat as you see his name written across it, causing the usual butterflies to swirl. How would this play out? What would Rafe say?

To the rest of the family I was just some girl; maybe someone Ward picked up at the country club or some overpriced boutique downtown. Sarah and Wheezie were too unbothered to care. How would Rafe take this? Would he even recognize me?

The buzzing stops, pulling you out of your daze as you watch the incoming call shift to missed. Shit. Headlights beam outside as Rafe’s large truck rolls up the drive just as your phone dings. Voicemail – Rafe Cameron You lift the phone to your ear, hearing that familiar voice.

“Uhh… Peach? It’s Ward’s son, Rafe. I’m out front if you’re ready to head out. Don’t know if you need a few more minutes or whatever. Just let me know.” BEEP. The message ends, the eldest Cameron’s tone short and uninterested. Maybe he knows who I am and truly doesn’t care.

You look down at your body, wrapped in a pretty pink robe; dress still hanging up in the corner of Ward’s room. It had been a long day of shopping and pampering, leaving you late. The muffled sound of Rafe’s truck door kickstarts your heart. You unfasten the bow around your waist, letting the material fall off your body and onto a puddle on the floor as you hustle toward your gown.

You step into the number, stumbling slightly; looping the delicate straps over your shoulders before smoothing out the front.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Umm… One second, Rafe,” you call.

“Of course.” You hear his deep voice in person, making you suck in a nervous breath. Reaching behind your back you struggle for the zipper, craning your wrist to get it to close. “Uhh… You need some help in there?” Rafe asks, making your eyes widen as you stand in front of the mirror again, looking back at yourself dumbly.

Of course, I want his help. I’m sure if I struggle a little more I could get it to word. But do I want to?

“Rafe,” you call out his name, voice broken with nervousness. “I could use your help.”

Rafe’s POV:

What the actual fuck. I stand behind her, eyes falling down the length of her bare back to her open zipper. Nothing but soft skin and satin; the small zipper resting just below her g-string. I’ve gotta move slowly. No way I could step out from behind her like this. My hard-on pushes against my dress pants, straining the zipper. I let my fingers trail her skin ever so slightly, tugging the material together reluctantly before pulling it closed.

I had no idea it was going to be her when she accepted my offer… Lucky me.

“How are you, sweetheart,” I mumble from behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.

“Umm… I’m good. How are you?” She asks sweetly.

“Great. I’m fine,” I hum, not moving from my place behind her, ambling a little closer. I can’t fucking help myself. Her lashes flutter at the closeness between the two of us. “Just came from campus.”

“Yeah? Umm… We go to the same school,” she starts, like I wasn’t painfully aware.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do. I know exactly who you are. And you and my dad are-”

“Dating?” She answers, her calm demeanor veiling her shame, just a sliver of it still peeking through. “No. We’re friends? Companions… I-”

I let out a raspy chuckle, saving her the strain as she flounder in front of me, panic painting her beautiful face. “Nah, Peach. I understand,” I smirk. She lifts her eyebrow, letting out an airy laugh herself. “He’s battin’ way out of his league with you. I must say.”

I lean in a little closer, letting the warmth of my voice fan across the column of her neck, making her head fall back slightly as she tilts closer. My large hands rest on her hips, all my primal urges pushing me to bend her over, hands on the glass, dress around her hips, my fat cock fucking in and out as I watch her go absolutely dumb on my dick. But I resist.

Why the fuck are you with Ward? You’re too beautiful… You’re only wasting your time with my old man. What is he givin’ you that I can’t? Money? Is that what you’re after, babydoll?

Good thing I have that too.

“Nice to see you, man,” Kelce smiles as he pulls me in for a half-hug, cutting off my view of her. I pull him to the side, giving me the perfect sightline.

Fuck, she’s arm candy – the perfect little accessory for my old man. And he’s lovin’ every second of the attention he’s pullin’ from every ancient perv here. This has got to be some mind-numbing shit for her. She gives one of the old men a fake giggle, resting her small manicured hand on my dad’s breast pocket, her head softening on his shoulder. With that I feel a little spark in me… something I haven’t felt in a while. Jealousy? Maybe. Not for long at least. I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending an invitation.

She looks down, eyeing her clutch as she feels the rumble of her phone. Her eyes lift, catching mine like she knows exactly what’s to come, without seeing the message at all. I give her a knowing nod as I stroll away.

In a room full of people she knows just where I am. She’s got her eye on me. Atta girl.

Reader’s POV

Well… if there was any question if that text was from Rafe or not that nod answered my question. My excitement leaves a steady pulse between my thighs as I try my best to act normally. He’s trying to get me alone.

“I’m going to run to the restroom,” you whisper in Ward’s ear, kissing him gently on the cheek before wiping some sparkly gloss off his stubble. He gives you a little pat on your bum and a wink.

“Gonna finish up this conversation, Peach, and I’ll find you. M’Kay?” He hums. “15 minutes tops.”

“Of course,” you smile, nodding quickly before excusing yourself, nabbing out your phone as you step toward where Rafe was headed, rushing to read what he had to say.

Holy shit.

Your phone glows as you reread the text messages sent by Rafe wandering down the hallway as you take in each word, considering your options. Am I doing this? Should I turn him down? Let him know he read this all wrong? That he’s overstepping-

“There she is,” you hear his low voice from behind you. His large hand wraps around your arm, tugging you back fast, pulling you into the dark room before slamming the lock shut.

“Rafe?” You gasp just as his lips collide with yours, the two of you running high on adrenaline; teeth clashing, tongues rolling. Your long nails scratch through the hair at the nape of his neck, making him moan into your kiss as he backs you against the wooden door.

“Didn’t even take any convincing to get you back here, baby girl. What do you have to say for yourself?” He mumbles against your lips as he paws for the bottom of your dress, bunching it up higher and higher.

“Rafe. I-”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, princess. You want me. I need you. Bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me. You gonna let me check?” He rasps, catching your moans between his lips.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he taunts as his lips brush yours, his rough fingers grazing the soaked spot on your panties.

“I want you, Rafe. I want your… Fuck. I want your fingers,” you whimper, starting small, knowing full-well he’ll talk you into more; just making yourself feel less guilty about the whole ordeal by asking for the bare minimum like that even matters.

“Just my fingers. Huh?” He teases. Not buying the angelic ruse for a moment. “You don’t want my lips, doll? You don’t need my cock?”

“Shit,” you whine as your legs draw together; his filthy words fillling you ear, drunk off the taste of his lips, just thinking about more. Rafe grips your thighs, opening you up further before pressing his fingers against your sex. Your head falls back, knocking softly against the door as a drawn-out moan tumbles from your lips.

“Did that get you a little excited?” He chuckles, darkly against your neck, licking and nipping at that special spot that has you whimpering like a pathetic slut.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I got excited, Rafe… I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you whisper.

“Mhmm… Haven’t stopped thinking about me and my fingers?” He bullies as he lifts you into his arms. You wrap yours around his neck, lessening the space between you further, your wetness surely transferring onto his white button-down as your legs wrap around his trim waist.

“Yeah,” you stammer, making Rafe suck his teeth and smile against your mouth.

“Stop trying to be a good girl, princess. I know what you are,” he growls. Your heart falls, breaking slightly as he hits you with the truth; Rafe opening his mouth before you can even defend yourself. “You want money… I want you. I can take care of you in more ways than one. I promise that. Got more money than him. I’m a better fuck. Let me prove it to you, angel. I know you’re a slut for cash alright. So am I. The game sees the game alright? But, you probably need proof… Let me fuck this pretty pussy, ma. Show you how much better off you’ll be with me. I wanna be your daddy. Aight? Not him. Not Ward. Rafe.”

You draw a deep breath, head spinning as he lays you back on the locker room couch. You claw for him, desperate for Rafe’s lips on you again. Rafe rips away your little lace panties, spreading your thighs before eyeing your glistening slit with a hungry groan. “Tell me what you want. You can speak. Can’t you?” He snaps impatiently as you fumble over your words. “Words.”

“You-”

“Fuck it. I can’t wait – need your pussy.”

“S-Shit,” you whine. “Just – Just your fingers Rafe…” He brushes your dripping folds with his thick digits, gathering your essence before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking them clean as his eyes roll back. “Let me eat you, baby. C’mon,” he pleads. You watch him wet his bottom lip, savoring the taste of whatever’s left of you.

“Damnit, Rafe. Your lips too… Fuck. Hurry. Your dad’s meeting me soon.”

“Little now. Little later,” he huffs as his strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, lowering you onto the cushion. Rafe’s gaze stays on yours as his lips latch on your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side.

He moans against your cunt as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing you with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him. “Enough of that,” he slurs, spreading your legs wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more muscle. “Can’t wait for you to suck my cock. Can’t wait to get you off,“ he mumbles against your heat. You look toward the door, watching a shadow pass underneath. The music blares from behind it. Is it loud enough? You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.

“You taste like heaven, honey,” he pants, bumping his nose against your clit as his tongue dips into your hole. Rafe grabs your legs, slinging them over his broad shoulders, getting even closer. He laps at your pussy, devouring you. Rafe breathes deeply, taking in your scent, eyes shutting softly, the vibration of a moan felt against your cunt. He takes your clit in his mouth sucking hard, making you cry out, spiked heels digging into his strong back as you buck your hips.

“Fuck, Rafe. M’right there,” you blubber. You reach for your dress straps, tugging down the top, letting your tits bounce free. Your hands instantly draw up to your chest, clutching and pushing them together. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit, making you toss your head back. Strangled cries spills from your lips. Your hands drop down, weaving into his blonde fringe giving it a rough tug as you grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself wavering on the edge of bliss.

“Peach?” You hear Ward call from outside the door, making your eyes double in horror. Rafe doesn’t stop, increasing his pace even. His eyes flick to yours, solidifying the evident. He wants Ward to hear. Your hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your cries. Rafe reaches up, snatching your wrist as your body betrays you, eyes screwing shut at you cum on Rafe’s tongue, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you’re fully relaxed to release you with a panting breath. His mouth greets yours in a passionate kiss, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He pinches and rolls your nipples between his rough fingers before sucking down; trailing sweet kisses causing you to mewl.

“You’re mine,” Rafe whispers, nestling himself into your neck.

“Not… Fuck. Rafe, I’m not.”

“You are. Stop lyin’, princess. You know you are,” he subsists as he matches your eyes. “Lie to me and tell me that wasn’t the best you’ve ever had. I didn’t even use my dick, baby. Imagine what I could do. Huh? I know my old man isn’t doin’ any of this shit better than me.” You fight for air, looking away for a moment before he grabs your chin, demanding your focus. “Fuckin’ talk to me. Use those pretty little words that you’re holdin’ back. Enough with the games. It was painfully easy to get you in here. I know what you want-”

“Rafe… I don’t know-” Your phone vibrates, stealing your attention as well as Rafe’s as you watch back-to-back text messages come in from Ward.

Part 2

[muzanswaifu]

Out of Options

Sugardaddy!Toji x Fem!Reader

18+

You needed money. He wanted free use. You weren't past making an exchange... until he started to get cheap. What else was a girl to do?

5k Words

Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @mrskokushibo !!!

Sfw Warnings: Sugar Daddy Toji, Sugar Baby Reader, Themes of prostitution, Angst, Bad Communication, Toxic Relationships, Creepy Old Men, Misogyny, Toxic Work Environment, Jealousy

Nsfw Warnings: Smut, Hints of Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral Sex (fem! receiving), Cunnilingus, Squirting

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The wooden frame of the bed slammed viciously into the thin walls of the motel bedroom, the withered coat of eggshell white chipping away with the ruthless collision, likely cracking the wood as well. The hellish creaking burned into your ears, scratching at the back of your brain and preventing any chance of relaxing in the moment. You’d had a shitty day, and the fact that this wasn’t even the worst of it was almost sad.

Work was exhausting, stupid old men yelling at you all day that you couldn’t do your job and the lead physician not doing a thing to stop them. Not to mention that you were in charge of most of the side work all day, replacing the instruments and utensils, emptying trash bins, cleaning out inpatient rooms, none of which was given to any of the newer technicians. You were good at what you did. You studied hard in school, you perfected all of your residency, you had astounding references. Your only flaw? Your gender. You were one of the only females in your department - hell - in the entire building. Most either quit or moved to different hospitals, entirely due to the terrible environment. None of your peers or superiors or inferiors respected you. You were always stuck with the dirty, side work while the others got to do what your job actually entailed, and the rare occurrences when you did get the opportunity to work with patients, they were always abusive to you. It was hell.

But what other choice did you have?

All the other openings at other hospitals were either filled or about to be. No other fields or retail jobs made enough pay. You didn’t have near enough money or grounds to seek out legal help. You were stuck. You were desperate for money. You were out of options.

You had family to take care of - two brothers, a sister, your mother. Dad died years ago in a car accident. Mom was already working overtime with two jobs, barely making ends meet. Rent, insurance, taxes, student loans, car payments, groceries, clothing, hospital bills, schooling, existing. It all cost money. So much money. It felt like you were suffocating. You were out of options.

Finally the creaking stopped. You back was already sore beyond belief and your legs numb. Your knees were probably bruised, too. Damn, you could go for some marble cheesecake right now. Your nose scrunched as you smelt the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, you lungs burning from the second hand nicotine.

“Here.”

A wad of cash fell across your back, the paper crunchy and bent. You groaned as you rose up, stretching your back out and hissing at how tight you were. How much was ibuprofen again?

You flicked through the money, your brow furrowing when you shuffled across the last layer.

“This isn’t enough,” you countered.

The end of his cigarette burned gold. He stood in front of the window, brushing away the curtain to peer outside as he took a drawl. He was still naked and didn’t seem in a rush to dress himself.

“It’d be more if ya didn’t make me wear a condom.”

You scowled but kept silent, fidgeting at the sides of your panties where he tied the damn things. The latex was knotted tight with each used rubber, five in total today. It’d be easier to just throw the whole pair away.

He took another hit.

“Won’t make our date on Saturday,” he mumbled, “got plans.”

You were already redressing yourself, desperate to get out of there and get going. Shower. Eat. Jerk off. Go to sleep. There were only so many hours in a day and you still had work in the morning.

You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He chuckled softly to himself. “How’s work.”

“Bye, Toji.”

The store wasn’t all that crowded surprisingly. It was Thursday afternoon, but people tended to not follow norms around here when it came to scheduling. They were out of marble cheesecake so you had to get turtle. It was too sweet in your opinion.

Everyone was asleep when you got home, but you were grateful for the privacy. Mom was still at work.

You locked your door and ruffled through your bottom drawer, fetching out your vibrator. The fan in your room was loud so nobody could hear it anyway. God, you were tired.

You never thought of anything particular when you were trying to get off, it honestly depended on the day. Sometimes you thought about getting eaten out slowly by a fireplace. Sometimes you thought about getting dicked down in a dark alley. No matter the scenario, there was only one similarity. You never imagined anyone in particular. You couldn’t put a face to the man. He was big, muscular, strong. You felt safe yet thrilled underneath him. But you couldn’t see him, if that made any sense.

Your sex drive had always been high. Ever since puberty you were antsy and pent up, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to date. Your first boyfriend was overwhelmed with how needy you were, and the moment you sensed his rejection, your attraction to him plummeted. You needed to feel secure before you felt horny. Were you demisexual? Maybe. You weren’t sure and hardly had time to find yourself.

You tried to find another partner again in your third year of college. There was a party at a local bar, and your friends hyped you up to go. You were both drunk, him more than you. He had whiskey dick. You didn’t feel comfortable. You left relatively quickly after calling him an uber. Failed again.

You didn’t try again after that.

You were fine keeping to yourself. You had your own assortment of toys awaiting you in your room. And work only solidified your hatred of the male species. You likely would’ve remained celibate forever if you hadn’t run into Toji.

You had just gotten off work, walking through the subway to catch the next train. Your engine was busted so your car was in the shop. Not many people were around, and the ones that were left after a while since it was taking too long. But you were too tired to walk so you stayed. The sketchy figures in the back didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Finally the train came and you got on, only about six people onboard. The man a couple feet down on the bench smelt like burnt flesh. He had a cigar in his mouth despite the no smoking sign. Whatever, it wasn’t any of your business. Your left side was occupied, surprisingly, despite the abundance of free seats. This man was close, too close. Two others gathered in front of you. 

“Where ya headed to baby?

“Yeah, yeah, you need some company?“

“We’ll treat ya real nice.”

You tried to ignore their taunts, keeping your eyes down and trying to appear as small as possible. You immediately noticed when a knife was drawn.

“We’re tryna talk to you, bitch.”

The blade nicked the bottom of your jaw, your blood running cold.

“Yer makin’ too much ruckus over there.”

Everyone slowly turned to look at who spoke. The man looked without a care in the world.

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask you, now did I old man?” The knife was now pointed to him.

He drew a long sigh and took out his blunt, pressing the lit end into the seat, the plastic screaming in agony.

You don’t really remember the rest of the conversation. Everything was a blur. Words were said. Punches were thrown. Bones were shattered. The man with the cigarette hardly got up from his seat, really. The next thing you knew he was sat back down and the others were lying on the floor, knocked out. You shifted your feet away so they didn’t get near the bodies.

Awkwardly, you tried to thank him, offer him what little you had in your pocket, mostly out of fear. You didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who could so easily hurt people, and you didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Based on the scar that tore into his mouth, he’d seen his fair share of violence. He turned it down. You offered to buy him food. He turned it down. Medical care to clean his fists? He turned it down. You were out of options. Was there anything you could offer him? His answer still burned in your mind.

“You wanna fuck?”

The money afterward was unexpected. You woke up sore and broken, your thighs burning and covered in bruises. He was long gone, in his place a wad of cash that made your eyes bulge. Did he think you were a hooker? You weren’t sure. The sex wasn’t bad. You didn’t get off, but he obviously knew what he was doing. It felt nice. You felt safe.

Your next meeting, he found you walking the streets. Money in hand, stinking of booze. Wagging a room key in your face and giving you an address to go to if you need some money. Maybe he thought you were someone else. You didn’t care. You needed money and didn’t mind the sex. You were always wet enough to be comfortable for a decent amount of time, but it would hurt more after each round. You wish he didn’t last so long. Or for so many rounds. You wondered if he was even human. More money.

You had a couple rules for your… relationship. No kissing. No oral (for either of you). No raw contact or cumming on your body. No telling. You didn’t need a reputation.

He paid based on what he felt like paying you, but he was never stingy so you didn’t mind. Until lately.

He wasn’t paying as much as he used to. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself as much. Maybe he was getting bored. You were worried.

You needed the money. You always needed money. And this wasn’t paying like it used to. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew what you had to do.

You needed another outlet.

It was going to be hard to find one. You were essentially selling your body, but you still had standards. You refused to sleep with anyone who you didn’t find attractive, anyone who was married, anyone dangerous. Your work was cut out for you.

And since you were now free on Saturday, you would go out then.

You put your siblings to bed early, double checking with mom that she’d be out until early morning. You dressed nice but not too nice. Hot but not too hot. It was a fine line you were walking, and you absolutely were not going to cross it.

The bar in the popular part of the city was going to be the number one spot for rich bachelors. You never went there yourself because it was so expensive and uptight, but you were looking to get drinks anyway. You didn’t have to wait long before you had a drink in front of you, courtesy of a gentleman sitting in a booth in the back. He was too old for you but you smiled at him. The others came quickly. You had the bartender sneak most of them into the sink. You couldn’t get drunk and most of these men you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. It was starting to get late. You didn’t spot anyone worth your while.

“This seat taken?”

You whipped around to your right, surprised to see a young man - no - someone your age in here. Not to mention attractive. You shook your head, trying to cover your own shock.

“Not a lot of… not… old guys in here, am I right?” He laughed, nodding toward the tables of older gentleman. Most were fifty or so. You felt gross now realizing how many were staring at you.

You laughed back nervously, “Yeah…”

“What brings you here?” He asked innocently, “Not that you don’t belong here! You just look… I don’t know - uncomfortable?”

You cringed. Did you look uncomfortable? 

“Yeah, sorry. Just… hanging around, I suppose,” you offered. He was too cute now. You couldn’t bring yourself to take his money even if you wanted to. 

He smiled. “Same here. I thought this place was going to be fun, but there’s not a lot to do.” He looked around. “Most of these guys are talkin’ business.” Looking around yourself, you realized he was right. Most of them were meeting up with business partners whiles others were trying to make business partners. Some looked pretty shady. You were getting more nervous by the minute.

“I-I have to go,” you mumbled quickly, getting up from your seat end creeping toward the door. He was surprised. “Uh, by-”

You bumped into something, stumbling back into the bar. 

“Oi, you should watch where you’r-”

You gasped.

The music got louder. The air felt heavy. His eyes looked dark.

The corners of his mouth tugged down and his eyes narrowed. Sweat condensed on your brow.

“What are you doing here?” He growled, his stature big and menacing. His green eyes bore into you sharply.

“I-I-I-”

“Hey-” The boy from before was back. “Are you okay?” He looked to Toji and frowned.

“This guy bothering you?” He asked, all too naive. You gently pushed him back. You could see Toji about to pounce. 

You pushed him back a little harder when he didn’t get the hint. “No, it’s fine, man,” you told him, “just go.”

He gave you another concerned look, but left when you gave him a stern one. You felt bad. He seemed nice.

Much to your disappointment, the other man you were dealing with didn’t just vanish into thin air. You sighed. “I was just about to leave, anyway.” You tried to step past him. He didn’t let you, his wide torso stepping in front of you. His smirk made your skin crawl.

“Let’s talk.”

You weren’t given the option to deny him as he stole you away, a large fist grabbing you arm far too harshly. He pulled you through the exit, dragging you down the crowded street. Any struggle you made was met with a firm tug, his grip getting tighter and tighter. You were definitely going to bruise.

When you’d rounded lone alleyway between the buildings, he’d pressed you against the wall, the grainy texture of the brick scratching your skin.

“What the fuck was that about, huh?” He hissed, his teeth sharp and burning white.

“You fucking around? You screw any of those fuckers?” He’d never been so angry with you before. He’d never been angry with you, period. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“N-no!” you argued, “Toji, no. What the hell - what are you doing here?” When he gave no answer, his eyes still glaring, you continued.

“You said you were busy today…”

No answer.

“I can spend my free time wherever I want.”

No. Answer. Your eyes glazed over, and you turned away from him.

“I… needed money…”

With that he seemed to let up.

“Money?” He scoffed. “This how you get money now? What the fuck happened to your job?”

“Nothing… I just needed more.” You bit your lip. “Your’s isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean mine isn’t enough?” He barked. He wrapped his hand under you jaw, his palm grasping your pulse.

“I told you I’d give you more if you let me screw you raw. Didn’t I?”

You swallowed thickly, tears clinging to your eyelashes.

You looked back at him with fear in your eyes, his hand slowly closing around your neck. His expression softened ever so slightly as he realized he was scaring you.

He released you with a huff and walked a few steps away, running a hand down his face.

“What’s the issue? STDs? Birth control? I’m clean, and I’ll get you pills-”

“No!”

He looked at you surprised. You calmed yourself down and rubbed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill of the air.

“Toji…,” you began, “we’re… not together. You have your fun, I get paid - that’s all we do.” You looked up at him softly. “I need more than what you’re giving me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You saying you don’t have fun.”

You bit your lip and looked away. He scowled. Wrong answer.

He took wide strides forward, cornering you against the wall yet again, this time with his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to face him.

“You saying you don’t love it when I fuck you? That your cunt doesn’t fuckin’ love my cock?

You frowned back at him.

“You tell me.”

His mouth thinned.

It was no secret that you didn’t come when you two fucked. It’s not like he was trying either. You always prepped yourself beforehand, lubing yourself up and stretching yourself out so he didn’t hurt you. And during your escapades, he always just pulled his dick out and got to it. He never touched you more than necessary, never tried to feel you up or grope around. His only goal was to get himself off. And you were fine with that. So long as he paid you.

His eyes looked at you softly, he almost looked guilty, but you knew him better than that. You sighed and pushed away from him.

“It’s late… I gotta go hom-”

He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight.

You looked down at it, his hand engulfing your arm, his fingers and knuckles all too big for you. His nails dug into your skin and he pulled you back. You couldn't walk away if you wanted to. You were trapped. You wanted to push him away, you wanted to be mad, but you couldn't find it in yourself.

He leaned in, his eyes soft yet cold.

You flinched, his lips connecting with the side of your neck. He was rough, his mouth moving against your flesh in a sloppy kiss. His tongue flicked across your neck, and his teeth tugged at your skin. He was hungry. Always hungry. You pushed your free hand against him. He ignored it.

His free hand snaked up to the underside of your breast, the other dropping to your hip, his palm resting on the bone. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin where your chest spilled out. You felt conflicted.

He bit you harshly, drawing blood. Your eyes widened and you hissed.

“So that’s what this was all about, huh?” He rasped, his bottom lip resting on your skin, his breath hot.

“Little girl not cumming like she wants to?”

You pushed his face away and groaned.

“As if you’ve ever gotten me off? I’m leaving.”

You went to move, but he kept his grip tight. He grabbed the other wrist as well. He squeezed hard, forcing you to gasp. He smirked.

“You’re this stubborn you’ve forgotten how to ask for things? You had me worried there. Thought you were tryna end things for real.”

Your face flushed in anger and embarrassment. You yanked your arms away but he didn't let go. You tugged once, twice, three times - he didn't let go. You yelped as he tugged back, forcing you to stumble and fall against him. He pressed his hips against yours, his groin digging into your stomach. You grunted at the pressure, your toes curling at the contact. He was hard already, his cock throbbing against your navel.

He pinned your arms over your head, his weight forcing you up against the wall, his mouth looming over yours. You turned your head to the side. He couldn’t kiss you, that was against the rules. His hot breath fell down your cheek and neck.

He leaned in again and you turned away.

He was hungry. Always hungry.

He leaned in again. And again.

You whimpered softly and groaned. Your heart throbbed.

You swallowed thickly as he leaned in again, your chest heaving, his lips brushing against your jaw. You shook your head weakly. He huffed, a deep, almost animalistic rumble leaving his chest.

You whined and shut your eyes.

His tongue smoothed over your jawline, his hand finally letting go of you.

You placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't push him away. He was too strong, anyway.

He grunted and ran his fingers through your hair, grasping a handful and pulling your head back. You whined, the sound only encouraging him to continue, your hair tightening in his fist. He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your pelvis, the fabric of your skirt doing nothing to stop the feeling.

“C’mon sweetheart, Don’tcha wanna feel good?” He cooed.

He forced you into the wall once more, his free hand moving down to your thigh, squeezing the skin just under your knee. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it over his hip, his bulge rubbing your heat. A chuckle rose deep within his throat, and he licked at your ear.

“Ugh, Toji, stop it! You’re being annoying,” you complained, despite the thrill lacing up your spine. He laughed.

“Don’t lie,” the man crooned. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be beggin’ me to fuck ya.” 

Your cowered away. “Wha-” Umph.

You couldn’t finish as you we dropped onto a hard surface, a mixture of both brick and stale dirt. Looking up, dead branches and deader leaves filled your vision. The alley way had led to a smaller subsection of the street, a lone crevice in the city district that was long abandoned and withering away. Your dress was smushed into the dirt of the old dirt bowl that was in the center of the small courtyard, the tree taking root twisted and weak. It almost seemed pitifully metaphorical to your current situation.

A scheming hand slithered up your thigh, scrunching back your crinkled skirt and hiking it around your hips, your lacey g-string fully exposed.

“Fuck,” Toji moaned, licking his lips, “You were definitely looking to get fucked tonight.”

“No I wasn’t!” You countered nervously, trying to press your thighs together to hide yourself. Despite being in an abandoned area, you were still in a public space and didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Much less be here for the long duration it took him to be satisfied. But this time felt a bit different. He was taking his time, touching you more, teasing. He usually got straight to business and had his fly down by now, but instead it was you who was being undressed, his big, warm hands encompassing your thighs and groping them. He was trying to break another rule, you could feel it. He had a devious look in his eye. He smiled at you.

“How much to touch your pussy?”

You were taken aback by the question, squeezing your thighs even tighter.

“Wha- that’s off limits!”

“No, no,” he insisted, “everything’s got a price, baby. What’s yours?”

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You’d never seen him so adamant to give you pleasure, much less offer money for it. From your experience, men were hesitant to do anything besides receive, convincing themselves that woman adored pleasing them. And the rare moment when they did touch a girl, it was always careless and short-lived, the only real goal to get them wet enough to be a slippery hole. You weren’t in the mood to be disappointed.

“Thirty thousand yen? Forty?”

“Not interested.”

“More?”

“No.”

He leered.

“Three. Hundred. Thousand.”

Your eyes bulged. Mouth gaping.

“Th-thats…”

“Going once,” he announced. “Going twice!” Don’t let him get to three.

You could get a new computer with that, replace your old busted one that had lost half the keys and took fifty years to load.

“Going-”

“I’ll do it!” You gasped, defeated. “I’ll do it…”

His paws squeezed your thighs, drifting up the insides and gently prying them apart. You hardly fought him when you realized that was the only way you were going to get the money. New computer. New computer. You tried to focus on the positives.

Toji pressed his cheek into your inner thigh, kissing your skin softly. You shivered at the feeling of his soft lips brushing your flesh. He moved up your leg, placing his hands on each side of your panties and tugging them down, your skin glistening with sweat as he pulled the cloth against the curves of your flesh. He pulled your legs apart further and licked a long stripe up your skin. the wetness cold on your overheated flesh. You clenched your teeth. You were on the verge of telling him the deal was off, but his tongue brushed against your core and you could no longer find the words. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving marks in his wake.

Your core throbbed.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the pot, your body lying at an awkward angle, the base of your spine aching.

Toji pressed a thumb against your slit, dragging it across your folds and collecting your slick on the pad. You shuddered.

He ran the pad of his thumb across your clit, rubbing slow circles into the bundle of nerves. You gripped his hair with one hand, tugging it hard, his muffled groan tickling your core. His finger slipped between your folds, easily entering your wet hole, his finger much bigger than your own. You grunted at the intrusion, the thick digit stretching your inner walls, his knuckle pressing against your clit as he bottomed out inside of you. He wiggled his finger, stretching your walls before pumping his finger in and out of your cunt, dragging out every little noise he could from your mouth.

He pulled you closer to the edge of your seat, your legs dangling in the air as he sat between your thighs, your hands digging into the dirt beneath you for support.

His finger moved slowly within you, his eyes never leaving yours, a fire burning within his emerald eyes. You grunted when he added another finger, the feeling almost too much for you. Your noises echoed briefly throughout the courtyard, bouncing off the concrete and surrounding buildings, and you were all too aware of how loud you were being. You pulled harder on his hair as the knot in your stomach grew tighter.

But you tried to keep your composure, your body still tense with the fear of your surroundings. Any moment someone could come waltzing by, see what you two were doing, your disheveled appearance, perhaps even try to take advantage. Your alarm hindered your concentration on the pleasure.

“What’s up?” You heard, turning your eyes back down to look at him. You hadn’t realized your gaze had wandered to the opening in the walls to where the city life buzzed about. He glanced over to where you were looking.

“Ain’t nobody comin’ over here. Relax,” he mumbled, his eyes getting warm again. “I’ll protect ya. Just relax.”

Your heart throbbed at the promise, warmth enveloping your body. You hesitantly let your head fall back and sighed, dropping your shoulders. His free hand moved to the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your belly. He wanted a good view. You didn't care. You felt… safe.

His fingers picked up speed, fucking you harder as you bit your lip. His thumb moved back to your clit, rubbing circles on the swollen button. You hummed and sighed, his fingers twisting inside you. The pleasure began to build up again, boiling in your belly and tingling up your spine. And just when you got comfortable he only took it further.

Heat enveloped your clit, wet and slippery and hot like a warm bath. You gasped out, squirming around a bit and digging your nails into the roots in the ground. Looking back down, you confirmed your theory. Toji’s head was between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and wrapped around your little bead, his fingers still working inside of you. Soft pants and whines left your mouth, your legs shaking around his head as he continued to suck at you, his tongue swirling around and prodding under the hood, leaving you slick and sensitive. Your core throbbed.

You felt a sharp pressure inside you, and then a slow stretch. You yelped. A third finger was entering you, your cunt molding around the thick digit. You writhed  again, trying to ease the ache of the intrusion. His other hand rested on your belly, gently smoothing over your skin as he ate you. His head moved side to side, tongue laving over you, his hands never stopping their movements. Oh god. It felt like you going to- to-

“Ah!,” you moaned, shaking viciously and clutching at his head, holding him in place. You were melting, you were sure of it. Everything was slipping away from you, your bones, your brain, your worries. His tongue kept lashing at you, extending your pleasure and refusing to slow down. His fingers remained pressed against your sweet spot, his other hand pushing on your belly. It was all too much, you were squealing with overstimulation. It got tighter. And tighter. And tighter. Until something popped.

All the tension broke from your body, the shocking sensations melting into something warm and fuzzy. You slowly let go of everything, all tension easing away from you and allowing for complete bliss to take over. Sweet sighs and mewls left your lips, your back lying against the dirt as you caught your breath and waited for your head and pussy to stop tingling. Another whine was pulled from you when he took his fingers and mouth away from you, unraveling your legs from his head and stepping back.

“You fallin’ asleep now?” He laughed.

You pouted and groaned. “No… jus’… gimme a sec.” Your bones were like jelly, your eyelids heavy. He cackled at you and that was the push you needed to get off your ass. He looked smitten.

“Good, right?” He crooned, wiping his mouth, “Ya fuckin’ squirted on me.”

Your face got dark and you looked to your lap, embarrassed.  

“Nothin’ to be ashamed about princess.” He assured, fishing out his wallet and shufflling through the bills. He took out a stack and threw it in your lap.

“It was hot.”

You groaned again and dug your face into your hands, trying to ignore his raspy laughing.

You jolted when you felt his breath on you, looking up and freezing. His eyes burned into you.

“Now next time, let’s work out this condom situation, alright?”

You gulped.

~

Part 2 coming eventually...

[togglesbloggle]

Why do you think tumblr will die in only a few years?

Answer with jargon: a strong correlation between recent economic shifts and chaotic choices by major tech companies is most easily explained if the 'traditional' social media platforms of 2005-2020 are mostly a zero-interest rate phenomenon.

Longer answer, with less jargon: Even though Musk's takeover is making all the headlines recently, the last year has in fact seen major shakeups at many social media platforms, so Twitter is actually part of a trend. Almost inevitably, these are cases of social media companies trying to find a way to squeeze more money out of their userbase (Reddit), cut costs dramatically (Twitter), or both. This marks a sudden departure from a much more relaxed attitude towards revenue in the Pictures Of Cats industry, where the focus was historically more on expanding the userbase to a global scale and then counting on world domination to sort of <????> and then the company would become profitable eventually.

We joke, correctly, that Tumblr has never been profitable. But the entire structure of ad-supported content curation between human users is deeply suspect as a business model; IIRC Twitter was never profitable either, and Facebook has been juicing its numbers in very shenanigany ways. Discord was actually making money on net last I checked, at least a bit, so they're not all completely in the hole. But even if you take the accounting figures at face value, none of these companies has anything like the amount of money that their cultural prominence would suggest. Instead, they're heavily fueled by investment dollars, money given by super-rich people and institutions in the expectation that fueling the growth of the company now will pay off with interest later.

So what changed?

I'm not an expert here, but I'll do my best to muddle through. The American Federal Reserve has one mandate that dominates all others (sometimes called the 'dual mandate'), and one primary tool that it uses to enforce that mandate. The goal is to maintain low (but nonzero) rates of inflation and unemployment, which in their models are deeply interlinked phenomena. The tool is 'rate hikes', or more specifically, tweaking the mandatory rate of interest that banks charge one another when making loans.

As a particular consequence of this, hiking the rate also means that bonds start paying out much better. When the rate hike goes through, that affects people who let the government borrow their personal cash- that is, people who buy bonds- as well as institutions like banks that lend to one another. A rate hike means that you, personally, can make a little extra money by letting the government borrow it for a while. The federal government of the US is a rock-solid low-risk choice for this kind of moneymaking scheme, so the federal interest rate sort of defines the 'number to beat'; to attract investors, a company has to give those investors money at a better percentage than whatever the feds are offering. Particularly since a company is a lot more likely to go out of business than the state!

To wrap this back around to the Pictures Of Cats industry: the higher the rate hike, the better your company needs to be doing (or the less risky it needs to be as an option) to attract big investment dollars. Very high rates make it very hard to convince people to invest in business activity rather than the government itself, and very low rates put moonshots and big dreams on the table, investment-wise, in a way that wouldn't otherwise be possible. Social media companies were one of these big dreams.

In the great financial crisis of 2008, the Fed took the dramatic step of reducing their rate to zero, trying to juice the economy back to life. And ever since then, they've kept it there. This has produced an unprecedented amount of funding for very crazy stuff; it's part of what has allowed so many weird new tech companies (Uber, streaming services, etc.) to get so much money, so quickly, and use that to grow to massive size without a clear model of how they're ever going to make money. This state of affairs kept going for quite a while, with no clear stopping point; that zero-interest environment has been one of the shadowy forces in the background that shaped fundamental contours and limits in how our Very Online World has grown and developed. Until COVID.

Or rather, the bounce back from COVID: we suddenly saw a massive spike in inflation and an incredibly strong labor market, as employees quit in record numbers, negotiated higher salaries, and found better work, and at the same time supply chain issues and other economy stuff caused prices to climb dramatically. Recall the Fed's 'dual mandate', to control the employment rate and inflation. This was, basically, kicking them right in the jooblies. They responded in kind, finally finally raising their rates for the first time in 15 years. For some of the people reading this, it'll be the first significant shift in their entire adult lives.

The goal, as I understand it, is to fight inflation by reducing the amount of outside investment into private companies, forcing them to hire fewer people and pay smaller salaries, ultimately drawing money out of the working economy and driving prices back down by lowering demand for everything. You get paid less, so you eat out less, and buy at cheaper restaurants when you do, so restaurants have to compete harder by lowering their prices; seems pretty dodgy to me as a theory, but it's the theory. And the first part will almost certainly work- companies are going to see less investment.

For social media companies that are still paying most of their salaries with investor dollars instead of revenues, this is especially catastrophic. Without outside investment, they're just a massive pile of expenses waiting to happen, huge yearly costs in developer salaries and server fees. This is why, all of a sudden, every social media company is suddenly making bonkers decisions. They're noticing that nobody wants to give them any more money! So they're trying to figure out how to live a lot more cheaply, to actually somehow for reals turn their giant userbases in to some kind of actual revenue stream, or both.

Tumblr is kind of the ur-example of this kind of thing, supporting a very large userbase with no coherent plan whatsoever to start paying its staff with our dollars instead of investors' dollars. When interest rates were low and Scrooge McDuck had nowhere else to hide his pile of gold coins, a crazy kid with a dream was the best alternative available to him. But now, unless something changes, he's going to notice he can just buy bonds instead, and that crazy kid can go take a hike.

That's why I think Tumblr is living on borrowed time, though I don't know how much. Like all cartoons, the economy doesn't really fall off a cliff until somebody looks down and notices they've been standing on thin air this whole time. But they always fall eventually; that's the gag.

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