#or give the company even more cash

[the-everqueen]

my last therapist told me that the ocd is a coping mechanism for the anxiety and over a year later..................ok, girl, i see it

[dzozef]

in other news ive been nominated for the Team Spirit award at work and i think thats definitely. a choice

[artisticdivasworld]

Why Factoring can be a Lifeline for Truckers During Economic Downturns

A lot of truckers are familiar with factoring, but maybe you haven’t thought about how it could be a life saver during economy uncertainty. Everyone’s feeling the pinch with fewer loads, longer wait times, and the unpredictability of when payments are coming in. Right now, cash flow is more important than ever, and factoring could be the thing that keeps your business steady while you ride out…

[hypocritic-trash-baby]

If somehow you haven’t seen by now, while the Super Bowl is being aired, Israel is striking Rafah.

The people of Palestine had been told to go there, they were promised it was safe.

And while this is happening, even though earlier several tags on Palestine were trending, only one or two are now.

I haven’t written any posts personally on Palestine myself. I didn’t feel I had anything to add here aside from reblogging and boosting whatever I can but please. We can’t forget Palestine or its people especially now.

This has gone on too long and gone much much too far MANY times and now is when we need to push harder.

Many of the heads of Western countries are either beating around the bush and wasting time, or outright denying the things the Palestinian people don’t have the privilege to ignore. They don’t have the choice to look away from their pain, or the pain of friends, family, neighbors, their country. And even through all of this they’re still trying their damn hardest just to live. And we all need to listen.

So now, especially if you live in a western country like I do, now we step it up a notch. Now is the time if you haven’t already to read up on Palestinian history. Listen to what the people of Palestine are saying. Hold firm on the boycott like never before. Any and every way you can donate, do it. eSIMs, aid, anything that will reach. Save as much evidence as you can. Videos, articles. Don’t let Zionists pretend all of this never happened.

Even if you think there’s nothing you can do, I’m telling you, keep going. Even if you feel you can only give a little, if we all give a little together it becomes much more.

Hit imperialism where it hurts. In the wallet. Follow the BDS instructions, find protests in your area if you can, boost as much information about Palestine as you can find, call your reps, and do not lose hope. The people of Palestine are not dead. They are holding on even through all this and we all owe it to them to do the same.

A Free Palestine will happen in our lifetimes. But it will be hard fought. So go out there and fight hard! The governments can’t hide from their own people forever. The companies can’t bleed cash forever. The people will win. So push until we do. Do not look away. Free Palestine

[screampied]

❝ HELL ON HEELS . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. it's your third day on the job as a flight attendant. you work around a lot of snobby rich elites, but a particular one catches your eye. a particular one who tips you $300 dollars in cash and wants way more than just your uninvited attention.

wc. 6.5k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, this is how gojo and reader meet, mile high club trope, flight attendant reader, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), semi public sēx, praise kink, degradation, dry humping, squırting, spanking, edging.

an. thank u to everyone who voted for this on the poll <3

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

the low-pitched whirring of the plane’s engine was quite loud. white noise could be heard through first class as you walked alongside the aisle. with a heavy sigh, you’d just wish the day would be over. the overall duration of the flight was about a good two hours, not too bad but you were already over it. dealing with haughty a-list celebrities or elites as a whole wasn’t for the weak. a majority of them were rude, snobby, and just stuck up individuals. except for one . .

as thick pieces of rubber stick against your heels and clank against the carbon fibre floor, you sashay through and from the rows before a cheeky voice calls over to you. “excuseee me, miss ‘ttendant,” and you crane your neck to where it was coming from. sat right by the window near the left— draped in nothing but a sable-black tuxedo with a pricey g-shock wrapping around his wrist, he simpers. “do you ahh, mind if you . . ?”

“huh,” you quirk your eyebrows into a brow before he nods his head up toward the cabin compartment above all of the seats. “oh,” you give him a soft smile. he takes a quick glance at your name tag that’s glued on the left side of your blazer. you lean over against him, reaching towards the latch to pull it down. the more you get close to him, the more you smell his cologne. it’s so strong, you were sure it was some kind of expensive designer brand. a small grunt leaves your lips as you stretch before just when you’re about to pry open the cabinet, the plane grumbles with a rude shake. a rude shake in which you fall—right onto the older man’s lap who’s got the smuggest grin.

“we’re experiencing a bit of turbulence up here, sincerest apologizes passengers..”

the pilot mutters through the intercom— it’s blaring through the speakers. he talks for about seven seconds, as well as reminding for everyone to have their seatbelts on at all times before he stops.

as if things couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing, your face lands right into his crotch. “oh my god—i’m so sorry sir,” you try to atone, sitting up and as you’re up so close to him, you take a moment to actually get a good glimpse at the man.

he was pretty, simply no denying it. you knew him from anywhere. gojo satoru, the gojo satoru. the snowy white hair was a dead giveaway.

he was more of a well known business man—a ceo of some hot shot company. he had his own clothing brand, does lots of men photoshoots, and even modeled a bit in his early twenties. although, the more you gawk at him, the more it seems like he barely even aged. gojo looks like he was still in his twenties, he had a bit of a stubble but was quite really well shaved. azul-blue eyes return the stare right back at you as you take in his prepossessing features for just a bit longer.

god, he was handsome.

gojo’s hair was neatly neat, a simple slick back of a sort with a few strands of white hair running down his face. he brings a wrist up to his face to rub his mouth before covertly humming. “. . oh, am i that good lookin’, princess?”

you gulp once he catches you staring, and then it hits you again,

you were still dumbly laid on his lap as he’s gazing into your eyes with the most complacent grin. “i-i’m sorry,” you mumble, cringing at your own stutter. thankfully, it was probably about four am, it was a private jet and only a few other passengers scattered around the sectioned row. sitting up, you rub your neck sheepishly before sighing. “i . . don’t usually fall on passengers during on my shifts.”

“heh well i’d hope not,” he teases. “oh, and don’t worry about getting my luggage by the way,” and his eyes trail you down before he glances at your name tag again. “hm, i think i’d like to request something else though,” and the more you stare into his pretty cerulean eyes, the more you get lost in them.

his eyes were equivalent to a maze, you’re always getting lost in his pretty irises—never finding your way out. “you’re probably all sore from walkin’ around in those heels, how ‘bout you take a little break?”

and he was right. the entire lower parts of your calves were a bit sore, so you do. you take a break . . although,

your 'break' mainly consists of you being hunched over, propped up in front of gojo’s seat with him eating you out from behind like a starved man. your bottom lip feels all numb and puffed from chewing on it for so long. your lips part into an exaggerated ‘o’ as your head’s repeatedly being pressed against the back of the airplane seat in front of you. the softly made material rubs against your face and you moan. some older woman was snoring in the front of it, headphones plugged in both sides of her ears.

thank god, you prayed whatever heavy metal track she was listening to would distract her slumber from hearing your loud, whiny moans.

alas again, by ‘break’, you didn’t expect this but you weren’t exactly complaining either. with gojo’s tongue rummaging against your clit, it had you gasping for desperate various breaths. “s-sirrrr,” you whimper, a lewd smile pursing against your lips. two broad hands of his had your jade-colored business skirt pulled up all the way to the very hem of your torso— just about reaching near your now wrinkled blazer. as you sling an arm over the seat in front of you, you whine once his nose prods against your soddened entrance. “ngh, ‘m gettin’ close again i think. f-fuck, right there.”

“please, call me satoru, baby,” he whispers against your pussy. you shudder from the coldness of his breath aerating against your bare skin—you whine once his palm swats by your right ass cheek, giving it a mean spank. “ooh,” he coos from the recoil of your rear. so pretty, it was quite funny how things even escalated so quickly.

right before he was buried into the depths of your plush thighs, you were just chatting with him. gojo had a charm to him. he was a lot different from the other stuck up elites you occasionally dealt with. he was quite easy to talk to. you make it a habit to talk to each passenger, despite how snobby they might come across anyway.

with him though, he was a pure smooth talker.

gojo showered you with a plethora of compliments. it came natural, it didn’t seem forced—he’d point out your pretty eye color, your hair, just anything. with your job, you were used to getting a few compliments here and there—but he’d go all out, all out in a way where it makes your heart flutter and fly. you’re rutting your ass against his face, loving the way his wet tongue curls into a few alphabetic letters. he’s just filthy. each breath that escapes from your lips as if it was being held captive felt like it was gonna be its last.

“so . . fuckin’ sweet,” he purrs, dragging a thumb down your slit for a moment. gojo takes a second to admire the way you easily soak in his digit, such a breathtaking sight inside. lewd, but breathtaking. “mhm, look at her givin’ me a little show. move your ass against my face a little more, sweetheart. yeah, fuck.”

your heart does jumping jacks at his dialogue. his voice was deep, rich—and seductive.

the silvery band of his watch continues to skim all across your skin as your hips judder. you shiver, feeling yourself about to reach your inevitable orgasmic peak before you moan out loud. you tried to suppress your noises, you did—but it was no use. you’re already biting at your hardened knuckles but oh, his tongue.

every few seconds, he’d break away to spit and slobber on your pussy. his nose consistently smears all against your folds, getting you ten times more wetter than you already were. he’s nasty, making sure you keep that arch for him. your skirt was pulled up and all wrinkled. the teeth-shattering stimulation makes you feel nerves surge all throughout your body like galvanic electricity.

“s- satoruuu.” you’d huff out in tiny pants, feeling your tummy cave in a few times. your sweet moan, its like a tune—a harmony, hell, it was melodic. he’d listen to you whine his name like that all day if he could. a gentle hand of his runs down your twitching leg, giving every part of your body from behind attention.

he was starting to get addicted, you were too sweet . . candied even, it was dangerous. he’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth anyways and perhaps you were his new favorite treat.

the raving pace of his tongue was simply relentless. you’re gripping onto the back of the seat for dear life, barely able to keep up with him.

ethereal ivory lashes of his open and close every millisecond that passes. it’s as if time was going slow for you— of course it was though, considering how you were thousands of feet in the air. you don’t know why, but the thought of someone just walking by and stumbling upon you all bent over for a passenger,

not just a passenger but the gojo satoru . .

you’d be lying a bit if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit. you knew it was against policy to screw on the job, in the air at that, but it was the middle of the night and partly everyone onboard was asleep anyway. having some affluent attractive guy right between your thighs, you were living the dream. you thought this only happened in the movies.

“aw, don’t give up on me just yet, pretty,” he soothes a tune against your cunt. after a while, gojo’s speedy flicking of his tongue transitioning to pure sucks. you’re shaking within the suction of his mouth. it’s almost too much to bare yet you didn’t want him to stop. he knows just the right tempo to make you roll your eyes back too. with prying hands, gojo’s spreading open your ass a bit more to lick a deeper area with his tongue. you zealously whine once he playfully uses a thumb to poke against your puckering hole. “mhm, yeah. thaaaat’s it, but don’t be so loud though, princess. i know we’re in the back row but still, heh.”

and with that— he gifts your ass another smack. he proudly relishes in your lewd, pornographic reactions. you’re an entire mess and he’s slurping your fervor shamelessly.

“s- satoruuuu, fuck f-fuck,” your breathing starts to significantly pick up. with your chest continuing to sink in and out, he briefly sneaks his dampened lips away from your entrance to bite near your thighs. the way you were shaking to him was just so cute. the white noise that continues to sing and reverb throughout the plane’s structure grew louder. or . . that was just the ringing through your ears—regardless, it was between that noise and the sounds of your own obscene pleasure that had a competition. a competition on who could be the most louder. your name-tag that’s still pressed against your blazer remains to rub off against the fabric of the seat in front of you.

your perked nipples snag in the process as you’re arching a bit more before a wail dies out your throat. “i- i’m gonna cu— oh!”

“another few hits of turbulence, folks. please stay in your seatbelts. time of arrival should be around six thirty am..”

you bring a hand over your mouth in a cute attempt to silence yourself as you’re meeting your high—listening to the pilot, you sob out a squeal from the inside of your palm. gojo’s slurping you up again with his tongue, your grinding against his face makes him chuckle. with his jaw tightening a bit, he doesn’t care—you were so sweet, he could eat you out all day. not to mention, he was quite thirsty. instead of having you retrieve one of his bags, he was gonna originally ask for a glass of water. but this quenched his thirst a lot better in his humblest opinion. his warm breath fans against your cunt all the while you feel his stubble tickle near the undersides of your thighs. “mmph.” you moan, peeking in front of you to still see the old lady knocked out cold. with the way you were rocking into the back of her seat— you were surprised she didn’t wake up. you were glad she didn’t though. otherwise, you’d embarrass yourself yet again.

with your orgasm still having its moment, you start to calm down a bit. he’s still slithering his tongue down your folds, savoring your taste as if it’s the last thing on the planet. his chin was coated with all of your slick, and he snickers before dragging a thumb to get another taste. “good girl. give it to me, ride my—ride my tongue, uh huhhh.”

a swarm of butterflies wanders around inside of your tummy from his words—his tone, it was so soft yet the dialogue that spoke out was just downright dirty. you pulse between your thighs and it only makes you crave him more.

as you’re still arched over in front of him, you take a few hard gulps to swallow as you’re finishing your perfect nirvana state. ecstasy, just ecstasy overtakes your entire body as he gives your pussy it’s final sucks and nibbles. once he finishes, he’s still sat in his chair. spinning you around, he gives you a warm smile.

“c’mere, sweetheart..”

out of breath and pants snatching out of your full lungs with ease—you move into him with your eyes half-lidded. “. . . atta girl, taste how sweet you are. gimme a kiss,” and you get on top of him. sliding off your heels, you get onto gojo’s lap. now straddling him, you lean into a steamy, hot kiss. two hefty built arms of his wrap around your waist, pulling you in close. once your lips meet, it’s just utterly sloppy.

throwing your arms around him and tugging on his tucked out collar, you deepen the kiss. he groans at your enthusiasm, allowing his hands to glide against every inch of your body. gojo’s fingertips dance against the pieces of clothing you wore, despite it being so few. your blazer was still on and yet couldn’t help but rock against his lap as your tongue parts inside of his mouth. gojo’s head leans back as you’re enjoying yourself. but all of a sudden, you moan once you feel it. 

his boner, right in the middle part of his pants. gojo satoru was hard—hard for you.

he grunts lowly, a hand of his snaking up your leg as you taste the sweet remnants of your own flavor on his tongue. the closer you are to him, the closer you get a nice everlasting sniff of his cologne. so manly, it’s a rich scent that you could never get enough of. it was so strong—roaming through the air so much that it almost gave you a headache. 

“fuck,” he sibilates. a single hissing word that comes from his mouth makes you throb oh so easily. you’re swaying your hips against him and his adam’s apple bobs back in rapture. every few seconds, he pulls away to leave a wet slope of kisses down your neck. a hand of yours tugs against his tie that was neatly worn on him. “damn girl you’re kinda kinky,” and he finally pulls away, teasingly biting on your bottom lip before finally departing. “i’m startin’ to like you.”

“more,” you murmur, leaning in to nip a wet kiss of your own near the crooked crevices of his mouth. naturally parted lips of his twitch, causing him to wryly smile back at you. “i need more, sir. we have a few more hours left. please.”

“baby, you can call me satoru. cut the formal shit yeah?” and his voice was a pitchy low, an almost rasp hidden underneath. a hand of his gently grabs your chin and you’re met with the most prettiest eyes. if it wasn’t his long lashes, it was his celestially blue eyes. so blue that it was as if you were star gazing at a summer sky. gojo satoru a pretty man, no doubt. he hums to himself in amusement at your cute doe-eyed expression, hungry for more. sitting on his boner was already torture enough, you just wanted him inside. 

sure, you were technically working but you didn’t care about that. “satoruuuu,” he’s being playful, a thumb still pulling down your bottom lip. as you’re both maintaining such intimate eye contact, his voice softens once more. gojo’s hand slides its way between your thighs before he raises a brow in a taunting manner. “what do you want satoru to do to you? tell me, girl.”

“t- touch me.” you almost whine out, it yanks out from your throat so pathetically. the throbbing you were feeling behind your panties only turned into straight convulses. 

playfully, he tilts his head with a smile. “yeah? touch ya where.”

“i gotta spell it out for you?” you pout, and he chuckles at your frustrated attitude. you start to jerk your hips against his lap and he holds your waist in place to bring those movements to a stop. “f-fuck, ‘s hard.”

stroking a thumb against your quivering lips, his minty breath hits against your nose—you smell it and it’s minty fresh. a scent of what seemed to be some kind of tangy beverage and a gum like substance. with a mocking tone, he presses a kiss against your nose before jibing. “i just wanna know where ‘m gonna put my hands on this pretty body. that’s all,” and his voice was so smooth, an almost purr. with a chortle, he moves a few strands of hair out of your view of sight before continuing his words. “now now, i’ll ask again, pretty. where do ya want me to touch you? let’s be descriptive this time.”

“between my t-thighs,” you confess, already soaked from him devouring your pussy just merely seconds ago. the shocking friction between both bodies had you feral, had you dizzy, had you stupid.

gojo gradually brings a hand down before you press a hand against his chest, pouting again. “actually, i want you to fuck me. please, satoru.”

“there we go, good girl. ‘n heh, aw i figured,” he cheeses, licking a single stripe up your neck. “mhm, you’ll have to ride me though. ‘s only so many positions you can do on a plane, heh.”

you barely let him finish your sentence before you start to unbuckle his pants. you’re so quick with it. gojo stares at the way you’re so desperate, taking it off the tiny hooks before yanking his belt all the way off. seconds later, you’re pulling down his pants toward his ankles. “ooh,” his eyes flicker towards your chest as you start to align yourself against his lap. you take a moment to stare at his now exposed cock and it was so pretty. lengthy if anything, a leaky mushroom like tip that was a bit reddened. he was so hard too, just gawking at his heavyset bulge that had you almost drooling. gojo leans back, rubbing against his thigh before flashing you a cheesy smile. “wellllll,” he sings. “don’t be shy girl. get on up here. ride all that stress away from work, pretty thing.”

he was so cocky, yet you were so needy. 

as you’re still aligning him, your damp entrance rubs off against the head of his tip. it’s peeling open a bit, the skin that attaches to the frenulum was just so mesmerizing to look at. it’s got a pinkish color, almost red. shortly following, a mere tannish color flushes on his cock near the base down. you moan once he grabs ahold of his length, helping you adjust. 

“easy . . easy baby, i gotcha,” he sighs, feeling your warmth slowly swallow him whole. those short seconds you spend taking in gojo’s dick feels like long, consecutive hours.

you’re dripping wet. as you straddle his lap, preparing to ride him, he slouches back in such a sexy way. manspread—gojo grunts out a single breath as his chest deflates. shifting his gaze towards your cunt, he spreads open your folds to get a better view. “ughhh, look at how she opens up for me. ‘s fuckin’ nasty,” he groans, staring dead at your cunt. you were indeed coating him with your slick from the base down. “give it to me, upside daisey, yeah.”

you’re taking his inches as the seconds go by before after a while—you plop down, feeling him bottom out already. gojo moans, gifting your ass with another spank. “f-fuck ‘toru,” you hiss, knowing that was a non-verbal sign for you to start up your hips. a cooling air that passes through the plane sets against your skin as you move. you whine, feeling his hands trickle alongside the secretive edges of your thighs. “touch me more, l- like that.”

“i don’t remember saying you could tell me what to do,” he meets your eyes as you start to thrust forward. he’s got the most impish grin stretching against his lips. gojo grips your chin for what was probably the nth time within this hour before he grins. “nuh uh, don’t look away. i wanna see those gorgeous eyes,” and he sneaks another wet kiss against your mouth. “ride it like you own it baby.”

you start off realllll slow, 

sashaying your hips up and down against his lap in the most alluring way. all six eyes were on you and only you..

your arms still wrap around him and he’s keeping eye contact with you the entire time. with your blazer practically ruffled and wrinkled, you continue to move yourself against him. gojo’s cock stretches you out in such a way you didn’t even know was possible. your walls craved him, you craved him.

as he leans further back, a hand’s still glued to your ass before he smacks it . . again.

he pats it afterwards, watching a cute sour expression slowly marinate against your facial features. 

gojo giggles at your cute noises, it doesn’t take long before you bury your face into the crook of his neck, gnawing your teeth against his collared shirt. “f-fuck, satoru,” you’d whine out, feeling his grip tighten against your ass. his cologne’s got your head spinning like a merri-go-round, giving you whiplash in all the right ways. “s-so big, stretchin’ me.”

“takin’ it so good, baby,” he licks against the lobe of your ear.  his breath against your neck was warm—not so cold anymore. two rough hands grasp onto your active hips, encouraging you to go more forward, more faster. “good girl, mhm, fuck me like that. use those hips for me, yeahh.”

his dick curves through every part of your walls as if it’s exploring. you feel him reach deep within every part and it’s driving you toward the first street of crazy.

breathy pants skate out from your lips as you’re swinging yourself back and forth against him. “s-satoru,” you whimper, feeling his hands continue to feel against the bare bottom parts of your ass. you could feel the bands of rings he wore rub off against your skin also, so fridgly cold. “f-fuck, ‘s good. mhm, fuck.”

“you’re so pretty,” he groans, the brief sounds of skin slapping resounding through your ears. it’s loud, almost sonorous.

his hair was getting a bit ruffled and unkempt, adding to his suave, mature features.

as he looks off into the nearly empty dim lit aisle, a silhouette appears—someone’s coming. it’s a familiar sound of heels hitting against the floor and you were too occupied of being horny to turn your head. at first, you barely even notice as you’re still grinding against his lap. “oh shit,” gojo gasps, grabbing the sides of your hips, suddenly bringing you to a stop. with a sly smile, he hums against your ear. “baby, don’t freak but i think your co-worker’s coming.”

“w- what?” you murmur, and he makes you spin around, still having his heavy cock hidden into the swollen depths of your cunt. glancing up, it was one of your co-workers coming. in a weak attempt to fix your nearly messed up blazer that was about to pop, you lean against his chest. “who— where?”

as he’s pressed right up against you, you’re met with a playful deep voice against your ear. “relax. act like you’re totally not cockwarming me, obviously,” and he runs a few fingers down your uniform, feeling you shift your hips a bit at his touch. gojo tries to make it look like you were just sitting on his lap, moving a cover over you and him from the waist down. you feel so full, you were growing more and more needy, a pout comes onto your lips because you didn’t want to stop so abruptly. you just wanted to keep riding him, but of course—you were working. “play it cool, baby.”

“um, is everything okay?” one of your fellow co-worker flight attendants, serena murmurs.

with a furrowing brow, she takes in the sight in front of her. you, happily straddling a passenger's lap whilst you’re heaving as if you’d just finish a 5k race. “we’ve been some getting complaints about noises. also, you need to restock the snacks near back. we’re runnin’ low on peanuts.”

“y-yeah, ‘m fine,” you sheepishly nod, knowing how fishy this entire scene might have looked. gojo’s dick was just idly enshrouded into your cunt, just one move and you’d be fucked. technically, you already were fucked. he’s tracing a finger against your thighs before you exhale. “but uh— can’t you restock?”

“i would but that’s not my job,” she snaps with an eye roll. gojo chortles at your co-worker’s attitude, he presses a single kiss against your neck and you almost moan. her facial expressions twist in disgust before she backs away. “anyways, just go restock,” and as she twists her heels to walk away, she utters under her breath. “weirdos. i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

gojo lets out a breathy laugh as you finally moan again—it’s taking everything out of you and you start up the jolting of your hips again. “f-fuck, ‘m close, ‘toru,” you whimper, the friction feeling like hot static dragging against your legs. “mhm, ‘s good.”

“you’re even more dirtier than i thought, princess,” he whispers, a hand playfully wrapping around your throat as you’re moving your hips back. “i bet your co-worker put two ‘n two together. you could have been a little more believable.”

you’re moaning, his touch sending you more deadly shivers before you feel a coil within you squeeze shut tight. the beat of your heat grows rapid and your pupils dilate from pure pleasurable lust. you’re getting close again, it’s coming so quick that you barely have any time to breathe.

his aromatic cologne nearly blinds your sinuses before you feel against his neck with your palm. “i . . i don’t care if she knows,” you mumble with a scowl, feeling his base continuously rub against your entrance. you’re coating him with nothing but a pretty viscous sheet of your slick. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah? what if i want you to wait?” he purrs, his sloping trail of kisses turning into sucks. you whine, leaning into his touch as he’s stuffing your insides full of thick cock. jello—your legs felt like jello, barely even able to move. the warmth against him had you hungry for more. it was addictive, you didn’t know what it was. you didn’t get like this for any other passenger, yet here you were. your mouth croons open, whining out a single harmony at his pace. he’s still making you grind back against him, the tempo having your head going for a spin every time. “what if i want you to be a good attendant ‘n wait just a bit longer f’me?”

“but—”

“nuh uh,” he snickers, bringing a smack to your ass. “wait for me, pretty. this pussy’s gonna make a mess when i want her to.”

and he creeps a hand down between your jittery legs, rubbing a few circles against your already sopping wet cunt. a gasp wretches from your throat as you’re laid back against his chest. the rugged fabric of his tuxedo top whisks against your skin and you’re babbling out sweet nothings.

“f-fuck, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, feeling yourself throb at the way his thumb brushes against your throat. he’s feeling the vibrations of your gruttural moans and it’s so cute. by this point, you’d already forgotten you were thirty thousand feet in the air. thirty thousand feet in the air and you were getting your pussy destroyed by one of your passengers. 

not just any passenger though, 

gojo satoru. 

he’s panting right with you as you’re just bouncing on his lap, two soft padded hands gripping against his thighs. as you bite your lip, your ass thrashes back gainst him and he hisses. “just like that, pretty girl. shiiiiit, ‘m gonna cum too.”

with his deep penetrative thrusts, it’s got you going ditzy. as he starts to spank against your puffy cunt, he nibbles against your collarbone. “you wanna cum with me, yeah? ‘s that why you keep dragging y’r nails into my leg?”

“s—sir,” you desperately spat, but he spanks your cunt again so you could switch your words around. “ngh, i mean satoru. wanna cum with you, pleaseplease. ‘s good, want it, finish in me.”

“my, well when ya ask like that,” he hums, and you feel the sharpness of his hips pivot. gojo groans, standing up before he lies you back against the now reclined seat. “lie back, baby. actually, changed my mind. i wanna push those pretty knees up to your chest.” 

panting, you lie back against the now lounged seat. gojo flashes you that same sly grin before he lifts up your leg—bringing a sweet kiss toward your ankle. “you can lose your license over this, you know? dirty girl, lettin’ your pussy think for ya instead of that brain, huh?”

“don’t care,” you moan, watching him quickly align his cock against your slit. gojo grunts, feeling you easily swallow his tip up again. your cunt was clingy, he was very much addicted to your slippery sloppy core. with his pants halfway on and hanging down to his ankles, he starts up a rapid pace again. “uh, uh,” you whimper again and again, your thighs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you’re keeping him warm from the inside, raw moans pulling out of your esophagus like it was nothing. “right there, ‘m gonna cum, please. s-sir, fuck me.”

“satoru,” he corrects you, a hand gripping your chin. pretty blue eyes leer down at you and he’s so close to you. as he’s jackhammering his cock into your sobbing swollen walls—eyes of your own goggle into gojo’s as he’s fucking you silly. you probably look a mess from this view, the heel of your foot grazing down his strong back muscles. gojo hears the sloshing squelches your own pussy makes and you feel the sudden throb arise from his dick. he twitches inside you and it makes his head throw back. after he gains composure again, he exhales deeply, tapping a thumb against your sealed lips.“you don’t gotta be formal when ‘m inside, princess,” and he squeezes your lips together, licking near the bottom. “open.”

you’re whining, his tempo growing quicker and you’re so close. crimson-carmine lips of his twitch into a feral smile once he sees you being so easy to comply. with your lips parting open, you tilt your head back before he spits into your mouth.

“theeeere’s your tip,” he teases, pursing your lips together with two fingers as you swallow. your cunt still gripping against him as he then pulls you into a deep kiss. with your legs clutching around his waist. “uh, manners baby. where’s my thank you?”

“t- thank you, ‘toru.” you breathe, feeling your cunt throb even quicker.

“oh, you’re welcome,” he smiles and he can’t help but giving you another kiss on the mouth shortly afterwards. the lustful stare he’s giving you could almost be described as lecherous has you more sopping wet by the second. with your legs tightly and securely keeping him from breaking away, he groans. right into your mouth, his tongue collides against yours before he sucks on it. as he brings you into a loving kiss again, gojo’s girth has you feeling a sudden arch in your back arise the moment you sit up. you’re being fucking into the reclined seat, his weight almost crushing against but it feels so good. “mhmmm, ‘m gonna cum. gonna spill so much inside of you, pretty.”

“don’t waste any,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around him. you didn’t even care how unprofessional this was. in the back of your mind, you’re thinking to yourself— if someone walked in again, who cares? not you. “please.”

“well aren’t you a doll,” gojo murmurs in a cooing tone, shoving your knees all the way up near your chest. you’re preparing yourself as you’re about to reach your final pleasurable demise. it feels almost tickling, the fat tip of his cock repeatedly kisses against that same spot within you. you’re whines sound almost melodic, not even caring if your pilot a few seats back heard. “look at me.” he taps your bottom shaking lip, leaning in to plant another kiss on your lips. one turns into two, then three, then four . .

and then— his phone rings.

you’re still a moaning mess, feeling your legs just about give out as he’s pressing such amounts of weight on top of you. gojo’s hands fondle with your neglected breasts that laid underneath your blazer. he groans, reaching for his phone near the counter of the seat. with a grunt, he answers. “tch. satoru gojo.”

still snugly shoved deep inside, he’s multitasking. one hand holds onto the left side of your waist, another holding his phone up against his cheek. he’s drilling into you so mercilessly as if his occupation was a construction worker. you whine, the scratching itch never leaving you. once it comes, it comes. “suguru, ‘m kinda busy. can this wai— oh f…fuck.”

in an abrupt gasp, he ends up finishing first. it’s so much. thick gooey spurts pour into your cunt, filling up the insides of your goopy womb. gojo’s peering down at you and his lip quivers. he finished a bit early. too quick, his hand shakes as he holds up his phone before you squeeze your legs against his torso even tighter. for a moment, he almost whines himself. the strong gripping grip your pussy has against makes him swear underneath his breath.

“huh? yeah, ‘m good,” he sexily whews, slowing his rhythm down a bit.

a hand of his snaps, making you look down between your legs.

he gives you a teasing grin and you spread your folds open. it was so much, so much velvety ropes of hot cum that ooze in and out of your sloppy folds. you’ve never felt more warm from the inside. it was a feeling that had your mouth watering, salivating with your sweet, syrupy saliva. your legs were practically mush, and once you finish, you end up gushing all out at once. it takes you by surprise more than anything. the feeling comes like a crashing, unpredictable wave, a fading fade then departures from your body. minutes eventually pass and gojo’s still yapping away on the phone—yet after a while, he decides to wrap it up and groan. “yeah yeah okay, man. i gotta go now. unless you wanna listen to how i sound post-orgasm, heh.”

“what—?”

with a quick bleep, gojo hangs up. tossing his phone aside, he looks down at you—cutely sprawled out whilst chills run down your body. he can almost see you palpitating from said chills. leaning up close to you, still balls deep, he pants heavily. gojo pressed a kiss against your right temple before teasing. “heyyy, did you just squirt on me?” he asks, and he speaks in a sly soft tone.

you don’t reply and he gives you a priggish smile. “you didddd. so nasty, i should make ya lick it off me.”

you did end up squirting. it was so much. so so much.

you’re still having your legs wrap around his waist before you grab onto his wide, stiff shoulders. “s-satoru,” you moan into his neck, getting yet another balmy whiff of his manly musk. “f-fuuuck, more.”

right before he could reply though— the intercom of the plane comes on and it’s the pilot.

“ladies and gentleman, we’ve made it to our destination. local time and time of arrival is six thirty-three am. for your own safety and others around you, please remain seated and keep the aisles cleared until i announce we’re at the airport gates. thank you.”

“aw, boo,” gojo laments, slowly pulling out of your pussy. a pout unfurls against your glossed lips as you feel suddenly empty. no more thick inches inside. the only thing you felt were the leftover masses of his cum spewing out of you. the seats were a mess, he brings a hand down to strum a few fingers against your entrance and you whine. so soaked, he gifts you with a kiss on your forehead before exhaling. “well, think it’s ‘bout time we part ways, gorgeous.”

gojo helps put back on your skirt and panties and you‘re just laid back with a cute scowl as he assists you off your feet. “i . . can’t walk like this,” and he chuckles at how stiff you were— a few droplets of his cum race down your thighs and you almost moan again. you’re still sensitive, throbbing near every inch of your body before he stands up. he’s so lean and tall. as gojo towers over you, you glance up at him and you’re met with that annoying flirtatious smirk he gave you when his eyes first laid on you. “my panties are practically ripped.”

he turns around to grab his suitcases above him from the cabinet and sighs.

zipping up his exposed fly, gojo leans in to kiss your forehead. “ah, well i can always buy you some more,” and then he pauses. “actually,” he grabs his wallet and your eyes widen once he gives you three hundred dollar bills. “i can buy you more than just panties if ya want, sweet thing,” he slides the bills in between your bra before pressing a kiss against your neck. “you’ve been such a good girl,” and he then hands you his business card. it displays his name and a cheesy saying near the front, all his information in bold blue letters too. before walking away with your bawled up underwear, he leans up to your ear for a final time and whispers, “remember though, it’s satoru gojo, baby. ah, and these panties—i’ll be keeping these as a souvenir.”

[drgnflyteabox]

Fem!reader x 141

Honestly might be able to to something with the gross stuff I saw at the hardware store I used to work at (except make it hot and 141)

Imagine you're a cashier, the only one with early morning availability so you're there at 5:45am for the 6am start. It's always the worst kinds of contractors there: rude, tired, dirty, leering gazes and sexist comments

You're pretty sick of it, but you get paid a bit more than minimum wage and you're done by 11am so, you take it with a cheery smile and fast service

The 141 contracting company starts spending at your store. So much, in fact, that your manager personally takes you aside to mention just how much they do - nearly a million a year - and how no matter what, your job is to be nice and please them

Well, you can do that. You've dealt with crazy, awful old contractors screaming in your face about lumber prices at 6:30am more than once, heard them talking about your tit's or your ass right in front of you - you can handle it

Until the masked one comes in first and hes huge, dark hoodie and cargo pants hanging low on his hips. He hands you 3k in bills only there are bloodstains on them and he watches you closely the whole time you count them out

It's... not a first, but the look he gives you makes you shiver. Pale eyelashes, tall, intimidating

The second is nicer. Too nice, in fact. He charms you before you're even fully awake, and your shift goes by quickly thinking about that winning smile and the way he'd touched your fingers while he handed you a stack of bills... not to mention those soft brown eyes

The third is... intense, for 8am. He rolls on the balls of his feet, stares at you harder than the masked one. He offers to buy you a hot chocolate at the coffee shop next door and grins like you made a joke when you decline

Their boss is fucking dreamy. Even you have to admit it, trying not to look up at his mustached, frankly porno-esque face. He's huge, as tall as the others but thick, with a little pudge around his belly. He trudges in with thick workboots and a stained t shirt, pays for 24k worth of material with a lazy smile on his face like it's nothing

You might ask head cash to move you to the garden center after all...

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[wyniepooh]

Loving him was never enough

you don’t have what logan needs, but he still takes all that he can.

Cage fighter!logan x reader. Mentions of violence. Porn with a little bit of plot. mdni; 18+

thinking about being logan’s plaything in his cage fighting days.

It’s not uncommon for the fighters to have a girl around their arms as they enter the ring, and though Logan usually resists against the fan girls who clamour around him in a frenzy, he figures a sweet thing like you could only do him some good.

Not only does it piss the other fighters off, (they hate to see the king of the cage also have a pretty girl like you beside him) turns out, you’re not half bad for company either.

You’re an anxious little thing, brows furrowed and eyes teary before every match. Logan doesn’t bother telling you that he’ll be fine, that he’s going to win guaranteed, that his punch is as hard as metal. Literally.

He hates to admit it, but he finds it endearing, the way you’re so worried for him. through his nonchalant front, he still wipes away your tears with his large hands before every match and reassures you, cooing, “I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

When logan gets in the ring, the fight goes exactly as he expects it to go. The other guy is destroyed before logan even shows his true strength. In a spiteful and humiliating position, the fallen guy comments something like, “I’ll fuck your pretty girlfriend dumb.”

Logan hears, of course, and though the guy is already bleeding and sprawled over the mat on the ground in a pathetic display, and though logan definitely didn’t consider you his girlfriend, he throws the announcer to the side and pounces. Through gritted teeth and a bleeding forehead, he catches your eye, shaking his head lightly before knocking the other guy out.

You wait for him in the small public washroom afterwords, arms crossed and pouting. As Logan approaches the door and sees your stiff pacing around the room, he knows you’re mad. And he knows it won’t stay that way.

“‘was so worried, logan,” you practically run towards him, “why’d you have to go after him like that? he could’ve really hurt you.”

He scoffs and flashes you the fresh wad of cash. “Hurt me? Please.”

He stays still for as long as he can bear while you dab at the wound on his head with your sleeve, silently hoping you wouldn’t notice the red cut slowly healing by itself. When you try to touch his face, to run a finger down his cheek and his stubble, he grabs your wrist harshly to stop you.

You’re confused, confused as to why he allows you to trail along to his every fight and wipes your tears with such a gentle hand, but refuses to let you in. He doesn’t give you much time to think, though, because as soon as you part your lips to speak, he’s picking you up from under your arms and sitting you down on the cold sink counter.

there’s an aggressive desperation behind his kiss, probably produced by the adrenaline of the recent fight and triggered by the soft whine he heard from you when his teeth knocked against yours. His hand reaches down between your legs and drags your panties to the side, and before long, you’re biting his shoulder and mumbling, “‘gonna cum, logan, please, let me cum.”

He does, drawing out your short orgasm with a few more pumps of his fingers and a graze over your clit. When he’s done, you’re practically already numb, head limp on his shoulder as you hear the metal clinking of his belt.

“You want this?” He asks, holding your head up by your chin as he tilts his head and raises his brows. “You want me?”

You nod feverishly, half-lidded eyes flickering as you breathe, “yes, logan. need you.” Your head falls back against the mirror, and he looks down with a grin at the sight in front of him.

he hooks his arms around your knees to bring you closer before you take him to the hilt in one go, burying a mewl into his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist. The first thrust burns, always does, but only he can make you forget the pain in an instant. Soon, your hands are tangled in his hair, his beard is rubbing against your neck, and you’re begging, “please, lo, need it so bad. “ Logan fucks exactly like how he fights, thrusting into you so sharply your ass is sliding back on the metal counter with each movement of his hips.

He’s done this enough times to know what makes you whine and dig your fingernails into his back, but he still demands, every time, “that feel good, baby? you like that?” Of course, you don’t have to answer for him to know that it does, that it does feel good, so incredibly good, and that he’s hitting all the right spots in the body only he knows so well.

You aren’t the only one filling the room with lewd noises. Logan is panting too, the echoes of his each and every grunt reflecting off of every corner in the room and into your ear. It only makes your cheeks flush hotter, only encourages your hips to move more eagerly to match his pace.

It’s always when he’s just about there that Logan pulls back and looks down at where the two of you are connected, slowing down his strokes to slowly watch his bulging cock sink deep into your slopping cunt.

It’s the only opportunity with logan that you get to really look at him, to see the raw expression of euphoria on his face, teeth bared and mouth open. Some strands of previously gelled hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes rolling back with each press of his pelvis. Your eyes trace the sweat on his shoulder, the hair on his chest peaking from behind his white wife-beater, and the vein on his stomach that connects to the one on his dick.

You gaze flickers back at his face, and you extend a hand to guide his head towards you. He tries to turn away, as usual, and you hate that you know he’s holding back; limiting the noises he’s making, the pace he’s taking.

“Just use me, Logan. I know you want to,” you plead against his lips, inhaling a gasp as you press your lips onto his. You expect him to pull away, to push your head to the side and focus on finishing the other task at hand, but this time, he only pulls you closer, one hand around your waist and the other on the back of your head. He doesn’t give you much time to be shocked before he resumes his previous pace, drilling into you with the same vigor, albeit a bit more sloppy than before.

Logan pulls back to catch his breath, and at the same time, you clench tightly around him. A low groan escapes him, a noise so animalistic and fervent that you reach your high right then and there, shrieking as your legs begin to shake.

He’s close too, you can feel it in his breathing, so you let him fuck you beyond your orgasm, even if it’s getting to be too much and you’re losing your thoughts by the second.

“nobody— ah— fucks my girlfriend,” he suddenly growls, lifting you up from under your arms and shoving you against the tiled wall. He squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to look into his hazel gaze as he spits, “n-nobody fucks you like I do.”

He plummets into you deep, leaning his lips in and making you swallow one last groan of his before you feel his warm release fill your insides.

When he’s done, Logan is supporting all your weight, your limp arms splayed around his sweaty back. You whimper at the emptiness as he pulls out, feeling his cum languidly drip down your inner thighs.

You’re too exhausted to realize what he just said, to react to what he just referred to you as, and as the fog of pleasure slowly unclouds Logan’s head, he’s glad he fucked you stupid enough to forget.

-

a/n: anyone else feel like they’re incapable of writing good smut? Hey Google how many other synonyms could there possibly be of the word ‘thrust’?

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a scare on my husband?

EDIT: For those of you coming here from my brother’s post (X) to shit on me, you look like idiots. Try to have an original thought and really contemplate who’s telling the truth after hearing both sides.

I (32f) am one of three siblings. We come from a very well off family. My dad is a former Cryptid and he pioneered the Hook Man in the 70s, so he still gets residuals off of that. We grew up very comfortable and with the ability to do anything we wanted in life. My older brother went to a very prestigious school and my dad gave him the money for tuition. Because my older brother got scholarships, he was able to save some of that money. Right now he works in human tech (very lucrative), but his long-term plan is to use the money to start a Cyber Spook business once he is satisfied with his knowledge foundation.

I ended up taking a gap year before going to community college, but I never felt anything click. I worked part-time jobs spinning out scarer costumes and even did some part-time work as a slasher before deciding it wasn’t for me. I finally found my calling when I offered to help cater for my high school reunion, and now I run a fairly successful catering business.

When it came time for my younger brother, “Steve,” to get his money, he didn’t tell anyone what he was going to use it for. He was working as a Slasher at a small firm in town. We all assumed he’d either go to Scare School or invest the money to start a business like our older brother did.

So when Steve showed up to Halloween dinner one day, six feet taller with extra joints in his arms and legs, we were all shocked.

Dad was furious. He gave us all the same talk about the scare industry when we got our first part-time jobs documenting missions at his company. He told us that scare work was hard and backbreaking. We couldn’t buy our way into it or use his connections to become successful. If we were interested in it, we had to work our way up from the ground like he did. If we didn’t, we’d more than likely end up dead at the hands of a final girl.

He especially emphasized that mods had to be considered carefully and were NOT a substitute for skill.

Steve thought they were. When his company didn’t pay him back for his body modification AND didn’t promote him from Slasher to Regional Nightmare, he quit. But the surgeries drained his cash and he couldn’t afford his apartment anymore. He had to move back in with Mom and Dad. As always, Mom totally coddled him. She said that he didn’t have to pay rent and agreed with whatever he said when he’d go on these long tirades about his former company.

I could tell Dad wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but he’s never been able to go against Mom. So he mostly kept his mouth shut though he did try to get Steve a job at his old company. However, last I heard, Steve was set against anything corporate and was spending a dozen hours a day driving around using the app SlashDash to find jobs.

About a year and a half ago, I was over for dinner with Steve, Mom and Dad. Steve was talking about work. He said SlashDash wasn’t working out for him and was taking too many fees out. I offered advice since I’d done Slashing in high school. I recommended sites like Scarework and Midnighterr to get more gigs.

Mom told me I interrupted Steve. She gestured for him to continue and tell me about his exciting new setup.

Steve told me he was beyond the sites I recommended. He said he’d bought a scanner so he could listen to broadcasts of active corporate missions. When those fail, he arrives on scene to kill any straggling humans before the scare company in question can send a cleanup crew. And since he’s a Slasher on their scene, they have to give him emergency pay for doing it. It’s a total ambulance-chaser, bottom-feeder move.

Dad was just staring at his plate, not saying anything, but I could tell he was ashamed of Steve. Steve was bragging about being a vulture in the profession Dad helped build.

I asked Steve if he was proud of himself for living off of leftovers. Steve blew up at me, but so did Mom. She chided me for not respecting my brother’s hard work and that his idea to get a scanner was genius, not predatory.

After that dinner, Steve and I rarely talked. Most of the news I got about him came from our older brother bitching about Steve badgering him for scare connections or Mom bragging about Steve killing and “meeting quota.” She would get very cold with me when I told her he was finishing a quota someone else started and not doing his own work. She told me if I couldn’t respect Steve, then I was welcome to not come over while he lived with her.

(Yes, Steve’s always been the golden child.)

I stopped interfering with Steve and focused on my own life. Shortly after, I met my wonderful fiancé “Reginald” while catering an event at Dad’s old company. Reginald is the head of sanitation and he’s the one who gets sent out to clean up any unexpected events during a Scare (like any magical residue or body parts that can’t be explained away through human means). He used to want to be a Cryptid, but he’s got a heart condition that prevents him from working in the field. He says that he’s happy being the “janitor” and happier being with me 😊

Reginald and I got engaged after only eight months of dating. Dad always says that when you know, you know. I invited everyone in my family to an engagement party. Steve didn’t bother answering the invitation. Even though Steve and I weren’t on good terms, I was still hurt when he didn’t show.

When I confronted him about it afterwards, he said that he’d been promoted to Regional Nightmare and he was patrolling his territory, and that’s why he couldn’t come. I asked him what company he was working for, and he said he was still using the scanner.

I pointed out that he couldn’t be a Regional Nightmare without a state license since only the state can assign territories. He started going on and on about being his own “Monster” (and let me tell you, extra joints DOESN’T make you a Monster, those guys are way more committed) and that he had passed the state exam.

When I told Reginald about my brother calling himself a Regional Nightmare, he was concerned. He works closely with the legal department, and he said that Steve is opening himself up to lawsuits by declaring public slashing grounds as his “territory.” He offered to talk to Steve.

We went over to Mom and Dad’s house together to confront him. Dad didn’t know he was calling himself a Regional Nightmare and he went pale when I told them why we were there. Reginald explained to Steve and Mom that being certified was different than being licensed. Legally, Steve is a Slasher even if he can control shadows now (which is a VERY expensive talent to acquire if you aren’t born with it. I think Mom may have paid for it).

The conversation didn’t go well. Steve said a lot of nasty things about Reginald not hacking it as Slasher and claimed he was just jealous. He picked on Reginald’s health which I had me seeing red. I asked Steve what there was to be jealous of since he still mooches off of our parents? Mom got involved and it went downhill from there.

All this to say that I didn’t expect Steve to show up at my gender reveal party less than 5 months later.

Reginald and I weren’t planning on kids this early, but we knew it was meant to be as soon as I got that pregnancy test back. We decided to put off our wedding so that our baby can be part of the ceremony that makes us a family. That being said, I did still have a lot of things ordered for the wedding so I turned the day into a baby shower/gender reveal instead.

That brings us to the party my lovely brother wrote about. First of all, he wasn’t invited by me. Mom invited him, and when I found out, I wasn’t happy with her, considering he never apologized to Reginald after our last fight.

Reginald was stuck at work (some idiot brought together a whole summer camp of final girls and the aftermath was brutal) so I had to force myself to be a good hostess. It was mostly fine. We have good friends and my older brother was very kind in helping me with some of the baby games we were planning to play when Reginald finally got there.

Steve, however, was NOT helpful.

He was annoying the whole time. He messed with the kitchen and he hounded the guests. I’m PREGNANT and the smell of raw meat triggers my gag reflex. He took the meat off the heat without me noticing and basically prevented me from eating lunch with everyone else.

Additionally, Steve claimed in his post that the party was dying??? Reginald and Dad have a lot of friends in common so the party did NOT die. They were all interested in talking to Dad. Dad’s voice is very quiet and raspy from strain over the years, so everyone was being quiet to hear him better. Steve was the one practically screaming over him to talk about his scummy job. The new Hook Man who succeeded Dad was there and Steve basically treated the poor man like a novice even though he’s a Cryptid.

Reginald finally got home and I could tell he was exhausted when I met him at the door. He still put on a smile for me though and said he didn’t need to miss out even when I told him it would be okay. He wanted to be there in our big moment to celebrate our family. He went upstairs to change.

I went back to the guests to tell them that we would start the games soon. That’s when I heard Reginald scream and fall down the stairs.

I’ll never forget the look on Reginald’s face. He was lying at the base of the stairs and looked like he was dying. He was gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. I was terrified his heart was giving up. I asked Hook Man to call an ambulance.

That’s when Steve started laughing.

I lost it. I screamed at Steve to get out. He told me to calm down, he’d just scared Reginald a little bit as a joke. I told him he knew about Reginald’s heart condition and that it was incredibly disrespectful to scare my fiancé in our own house.

He said he didn’t mean to scare him that bad, but that he was just better at it than he thought. His scares were too powerful. He seemed smug and was still laughing.

I accused him of intentionally hurting Reginald because of the licensing versus certification argument we had. I said he was a bully and an idiot.

Mom jumped in and said it was an accident.

Dad FINALLY said something. He shadow-walked (the first time in YEARS) up the stairs and hooked Steve by the neck. He dragged all twelve feet of him down the stairs and told him to get out.

Steve said, “For what? It’s not my fault that weak-hearted son of a bitch can’t take a joke.”

Dad lost it. He told Steve a REAL scarer wouldn’t use their abilities like that on their own families. He told Mom and Steve it didn’t matter if he meant it as a joke. The fact is he used his scare tactics on a layperson, and he could get blacklisted from the profession for it.

Dad kicked Steve out and told him he wasn’t welcome back into the basement until he got a REAL job. Steve kept arguing, but the paramedics arrived then and I lost track of the rest of it.

I went with Reginald to the hospital where Reginald insisted we both get checked out. The stress wasn’t good for the baby and doctor told me it might be best to go on maternity leave sooner rather than later. Reginald is also going to be taking a leave from work. He had a heart attack because of my brother.

Things could have ended worse, but they didn’t end well. I told my parents that I refuse to have Steve at my wedding or even to see my child after they’re born (and now I STILL don’t know the gender! Only our older brother knows since he got the gender reveal cake).

Mom started to protest, but Dad said he understood. He said that both he and Mom just wanted me to be happy and healthy and that they would take care of Steve.

So now I leave it up to you. Having read both of our posts, who do you think is the real asshole? My brother for being “proud” of scaring my fiancé into a heart attack at our baby’s gender reveal party? Or me for never talking to said brother again for the health of my future family?

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! If you'd like to support me and/or see these stories a week before I post them here, please check me out on Patreon (X)!

See you next week!

This week's story is based on this (x) prompt from Writing-prompt-s:

You are a person who covers your counter space in clutter and inadvertently makes a shrine to a long forgotten god who shows up to thank you.

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Alfred knows Danny from long ago during his secret service days. He always found the other odd, but his company was enjoyable enough to overlook. They were friends for a short while. Danny even saved his life once or twice. However, despite their trust in each other, they didn’t keep in touch. It was like Danny disappeared and he never heard from the jolly man again. That is until Danny showed up at the Wayne manor decades later looking the same as when they parted ways carrying the daughter he talked so much about.

Danny stood on the front porch with a toddler Ellie in his arms. She’s been behaving wonderfully. The new environment gave her curious self something to look at and distract her from a tantrum.

He rings the doorbell awkwardly with her in one arm and a bag of supplies resting on his shoulder.

If things were any different he wouldn’t be here, but he’s got to do what he’s got to do even if it’s the last scenario.

Footsteps can be heard on the other side before it opens to reveal a boy in sweatpants and a hoodie. It’s a little warm for the summer and Danny expects they have an expensive electric bill for this large place.

The kid, Damian Wayne he remembers, scowls. He gives Danny a once over with narrowed eyes.

“How’d you get through the gate?” Damian demands.

Danny blinks and adjusts Ellie on his hip.

“I walked of course.” Damian grows even more suspicious and Danny decides to change the subject. “I’m Danny. Danny Fenton. And this little monster is Ellie. Want to say hello, Ells?”

Ellie looks at Damian for all of three seconds before losing interest.

“No.”

Danny sighs. Yea, he was expecting that answer. It’s her favorite word at the moment.

“Why are you here?” Damian asks.

Straight to the point then.

“I’m looking for Alfred Pennyworth. Is he around? It’s urgent.”

“What is it concerning?” Damian straightens his spine to appear taller but it doesn’t change the head difference.

Danny sets Ellie down on the brick when she won’t stop squirming to be let down. She doesn’t waste a moment wandering away to investigate her surroundings. Damian raises a brow while watching her.

“I’m cashing in that favor he owns me.”

That got the boy’s attention. He studies the adult for a moment before opening the door wider for the both of them to enter.

Danny manages to wrangle Ellie into the house with Damian’s judgmental gaze following them. The bag had slid down to his elbow when he bends down to hold Ellie’s hand to steady her.

It’s as Damian is closing the front door that a man comes around the corner in a butler uniform. The same man he was looking for.

Alfred freezes after registering who was in front of him. The older of the two sighs heavily. Shoulders back and chin high, as expected he approaches this situation with a level head and posh dignity.

“Daniel,” addresses Alfred. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Danny cringes. He really should have called with a warning but there wasn’t time. He also always hated it when Alfred refused to use Danny’s preferred nickname, a sort of teasing that was consistent. If Alfred was anything, he’s stubborn enough to do what he wants and get away with it.

“Sorry, Alf. Next time for sure.” Danny sends a cheeky grin that doesn’t impress anyone. He glances over at his daughter to see her trying to touch the expensive looking vase on a side table.

“Ellie!” He dashes over to pull her away which immediately starts a struggle war and fussing. He knows if he lets this continue it will turn into a full blown tantrum.

“That’s not ours, we can’t touch it without permission.” She whines in frustration. “Do you want to ask if it’s okay to touch? Gently?”

Ellie thinks about it a second before looking up at him. Danny nods in understanding and turns her a bit to look at the two spectators.

“Toush?” She asks with an adorable chubby arm raised to point at the vase.

“Are you going to break it?” Damian asks with folded arms.

“Master Damian, I’m sure that’s not her intention.” Alfred turns with a smile back to Ellie. “That vase is fragile. Can you be very careful?”

Obviously her answer is a confident nod of the head and immediately trying to reach out again. Danny helps to lift her and hold her wrist steady.

She pets the vase like a kitten, feeling the raised edges of the design with her little hand. After a few long moments Danny pulls her away to set her on his hip like before, earning an annoyed huff in his direction for his efforts.

“Very good, Ellie. I knew you could do it.”

She hides her face in his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to send a look at Alfred. The older man understands immediately and inclines his head before turning to walk further into the house.

“It was nice meeting you,” Danny shoots Damian before following Alfred to what appears to be a parlor a few rooms away.

“I shall fetch some tea.”

Danny shakes his head as he sits.

“No time. I’m in a rush.”

Alfred eyes him up and down before gingerly sitting in the armchair across from him.

“Yes, so I have noticed.”

In other words, spill your guts for abruptly intruding like you have.

“Something…urgent has come up-“

“I assumed as much.”

“-and I know how good you are with kids-“

“Daniel, you cannot expect me to-“

“You owe me,” Danny says firmly. Alfred leans back at the reminder. He knows Danny would never hold that over his head without a good reason. “I have no one else to go to, to look after her. I normally would just take her with me, but I- it’s gotten dangerous. Too dangerous for her.”

He looks to Alfred with desperate eyes. Ellie tries to squirm out of his arms, which reflexively tighten securely around her middle. He can see the dark bags under the younger eyes.

Alfred sighs.

“How long?”

Danny sags and Ellie slips out of her father’s arms as soon as the chance presented itself. Alfred would need to keep a close eye on her in the future.

“A week, two, three tops.”

Alfred sends an unimpressed look and Danny cringes but doesn’t redact his statement.

“Anything I need to know?”

Danny looks down at the hastily packed diaper bag like it had all the answers.

“We’re kind of in the middle of potty training so I threw in some pull ups but those will go quick. She hates carrots. Won’t go to sleep without a bedtime story. Don’t give her any sugar after four or she’ll turn into a monster. Oh, and her powers are coming in so I packed a shield for at night.”

Alfred raises a single eyebrow.

“Could you be more specific?”

Danny waves it off like it was no big deal.

“Just the normal stuff. Invisibility, intangibility, and flight. It’s all very weak and sporadic right now. Keep calm until she figures it out on her own. She’s just learning.”

“So you are leaving a child in my care for an unknown amount of time, a child that can disappear, walk through walls, and fly. Anything else?”

Danny rubs the back of his neck guiltily.

“Why do you always have to make everything sound so…” He sighs heavily, glancing over at Ellie who has managed to take every blanket out of the basket in the corner and crawled in to make a nest out of the materials. He smiles fondly.

“I’ve probably forgotten something, but I know you can handle it. You can take care of her.”

Danny then stands and pulls out a piece of paper, handing it over.

“My number is at the top in case of emergencies. Her favorite stuffy is in the bag, she won’t sleep without it. Her favorite word right now is ‘no’. I wrote down anything I could think of, which you probably can’t even read my chicken scratch…”

Alfred gently takes the paper from his hand and Danny slowly makes his way to the messy corner.

“Hey, Elles,” he says softly, far softer than anything Alfred has heard from him. Usually he was a rambunctious, jovial loudmouth, but right now he was hesitant. Prolonging the farewell they both know needs to happen with how urgent this mysterious problem was.

Ellie looks up for a moment before going back to maneuvering her fort.

“I gotta go away for a while. Alfred here will be watching over you while I’m gone, okay?”

That got her attention. For a child that young, she knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what. And now her dad, her protector, was leaving.

“No.”

Danny folds his lips together, expecting the response but still not ready to go through the hard part of leaving.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I am, but I have to go. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”

“No!”

Danny sighs and reaches in to pull her into his arms. She fights him valiantly, but he was stronger and bigger.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

They might as well have been empty words for the lack of effect it had on the struggling toddler. Danny sways with her for a few beats until he gets an idea.

“Danielle, look.”

He makes sure she’s watching as he creates a loop of ice, infused with his ectoplasm and therefore, his signature.

“Hold out your hand,” he coax.

She does so with a sniffle and he gently moves the glowing green ghost ice around her wrist to make an indestructible, unmeltable bracelet. He shrinks it until he’s sure it won’t fall off and won’t be too tight either.

“There. Now you have a piece of me wherever you go. Even when we’re far apart.”

She pointedly doesn’t look at him.

“I love you, Ellie. I’ll be back soon.”

He kisses her forehead, breathes in her soft scent, and turns to Alfred. The older man is watching carefully and makes his arms available for a new passenger.

With a deep breath Danny hands her over, Ellie immediately starts whining and tears fall from her eyes.

“Hey, you’ll be okay. Alfred here is a mighty warrior. He’ll keep you safe. I trust him.”

He does his best to wipe away her tears but he has to physically step away when she reaches for him. Instead he looks to Alfred.

Alfred holds her securely and nods in assurance.

“Not to worry. Danielle and I will be too busy to notice your absence.”

Danny smiles at the effort but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He can’t resist petting her head one last time, her pigtails in disarray, and wiping her tears from her cheeks.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he promises, marking it with another kiss to her head before backing away again. He looks at Alfred sending his gratitude without words. Alfred accepts it with a slight incline of the head. Danny nods once and leaves before he can’t.

The door opens and the young boy from earlier stumbles back with a glare to hide his embarrassment.

“Master Damian-“

Danny holds up a hand to stop Alfred. Of course the boy would eavesdrop, what did either of them expect?

The young father leans down to get eye level with Damian, looking him straight in the eye with seriousness. Damian straightens at the attention.

“It’s very important Ellie is safe and occupied while I’m away. It would mean a lot to me if you would help Alfred do that.”

Damian folds his arms.

“What would I get out of that useless goal?”

“What would you want?”

“Daniel, Master Bruce would not-“

“A knife,” Damian interrupts. “Not just any knife though. It has to be special.”

Danny hums in thought, studying Damian for a moment, almost making the boy squirm.

“Deal.”

He holds out his hand and Damian shakes it after a second of hesitation. Danny nods to the boy, then nods to Alfred, and he’s finally out the door making a portal as he walks from the gentle breeze of outside to the chill of ectoplasm, transforming into his kingly attire as he crosses the threshold.

The GIW had a lot to answer for and he couldn’t hold his subjects back any longer. The United States had declared war against the Infinite Realms and he would be the one to answer.

[writerpeach]

The Naughty List

IVE Jang Wonyoung x An Yujin x m!reader

8500 words

Part 7 of IVED Vanilla Latte

The cafeteria is oddly barren at lunchtime. Christmas lights are everywhere, and all the clichés apply—decorated trees, stockings hung along the wall, tinsel wrapped around the columns. Holiday music plays over the speakers, but it's easy enough to tune out when you have the company of your roommates.

Wonyoung finishes up her pastry, taking one more sip of coffee as she wipes the corners of her lips with a napkin. Nearly satisfied, she pops open a compact mirror to check her face, and a faint touch-up of lip gloss finishes it off, lips plump and pink once she closes the little case and drops it in her purse. 

"All set."

Yujin laughs in amusement, wondering how one person can spend so much effort on a quick touch-up, as if she'll simply melt if her appearance is nothing less than immaculate. It's not like Yujin doesn't have her own fastidious routine, especially with her makeup, but nobody takes it to such extreme measures like the tall beauty with pouty lips right across the table.

Wonyoung runs fingers through her hair while she stands up from the table to stretch, grabbing her purse and tightening the scarf wrapped around her slender neck. You follow their lead as they bundle up and toss their empty containers into the trash, Yujin still clutching the remainder of her drink, while Wonyoung drops an absurd amount of cash into the tip jar before the three of you make your exit. 

Winter never seems to let up—snow covers the ground everywhere, leaving a crunch under your boot with every step. Not that it’s an issue when you have these two keeping you plenty warm. 

Yujin is on your left, Wonyoung on your right, both with their arms hooked around yours, clinging possessively as they pull you closer, leaving your attention constantly torn between the two. But you couldn’t be happier, sandwiched in the middle—Yujin, with her thigh-high boots and that ridiculously short skirt, as if pants are a foreign concept; and Wonyoung, in her leather skirt and leggings combo that makes her look absolutely delectable.

It draws plenty of stares, of course, because why wouldn't it as you walk through campus, arm in arm, attracting attention in whatever direction the three of you pass. But it’s no concern really. 

"So, daddy—" Wonyoung cuts the silence and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning in closer while also holding on a bit tighter. "Finals are done and Christmas is right around the corner. Any idea what you're gonna ask Santa for this year?"

It's cute hearing the innocence in her voice, and watching her eyes light up with curiosity. "Think I have everything I need right here. You two spoil me enough as it is."

Yujin giggles softly, fluttering her long lashes as she kisses your cheek. "Don’t think that’s possible. Still, I think we'll have the perfect gift waiting for you under the tree, daddy."

That could mean anything—which excites as much as it frightens you, but Yujin's devious smile gives little to no indication. Not even Wonyoung's telling expression gives much of an idea. But you're not left in your thoughts long, distracted when Yujin stops in her tracks, gathering up some snow with a bright look on her face and packing it into a little ball.

"W-wait," Wonyoung pauses momentarily, her whole body coming to an immediate halt, the realization sinking in when Yujin reveals the tiny snowball between her delicate fingertips. "Yujin, don't you dare—"

The throw isn't quite clean, only half connected as the snowball grazes Wonyoung's shoulder and falls short, yet Yujin's smile spreads, excited by the way it explodes. That's all the confirmation she needs to reach down and do it again.

"H-hey, no—d-don't even think—" Wonyoung's fumbling around while frantically trying to decide on how to react and whether to run, blocking herself behind you as a human shield. 

"Hiding behind daddy? That's not very fair, princess."

"Neither is throwing fucking snowballs! I haven't gotten snow on me in years, I don't like being cold!"

"What, scared it'll ruin your five thousand dollar shoes?" A second snowball hits before Wonyoung can respond, the white snow spreading all over her little leather skirt. 

You don't exactly have a say in any of this when Wonyoung takes you hostage, burying her face in your back while clinging to your waist, as if that offers protection against Yujin's clear intentions. Before you can get out any word of protest, Yujin lands a perfectly clean shot against the side of your face, laughing uncontrollably.

Wonyoung doesn't even give you a chance to defend yourself, climbing straight up on your back like her life depends on it, arms around your neck to cling tight. 

"Daddy, get her!" 

No chance to hesitate when you’re forced to carry Wonyoung’s weight without warning. And now you're really at a disadvantage with this girl on your back, hardly able to defend yourself when it comes to Yujin's next barrage of snowballs, taking each one directly in the face. Somehow, you manage to scoop up enough snow to throw a few yourself, one of them finally landing a hit when Yujin doubles back to take cover, giggling mischievously in triumph. 

That's when you lower Wonyoung down onto the ground, needing an even playing field so you can get your payback. She's not exactly happy as anticipated, pouting the second her feet touch the snowy ground. That pout doesn’t linger, however, left alone, defenseless against Yujin's assault. Rather quickly, it devolves to scrambling to the nearest cover behind one of the benches when she realizes there's no more safety net.

And then it's a warzone—snowballs gathered up and launched at Yujin without yield, while you try desperately to block the return fire. 

Yujin's much more athletic and quicker on her feet, dodging almost effortlessly, her long legs allowing her to find cover so easily. You've taken more than your share of snowballs, most to the face, meanwhile, Wonyoung isn't even trying, just cowering behind the bench and waiting for this storm to pass.

You abandon your current position for a better vantage point, and then there's this same thought clicking at the same moment when you fire a direct shot toward Yujin's tight ass as she passes between some trees. It explodes beautifully and catches her so off guard, and then you're locking eyes, in unison, with the same devilish intentions in mind, an unspoken alliance forming. And there's no better target in sight—

Yujin darts towards the direction of Wonyoung, and you gather up the biggest snowball you can manage before putting the plan into motion—an ambush, taking each side to corner her before she has time to realize the trap. It's perfect execution, both snowballs finding their mark in succession, one hitting Wonyoung square in the face from behind, the other from the front by Yujin.

Wonyoung looks betrayed as she just stands there with a look of disbelief, cheeks flushed red from the cold while you block off any retreat, ensuring there’s nowhere to run to avoid what's coming. 

And the only answer to this is, well, nothing, surprisingly—just Wonyoung standing in place, snowball after snowball raining down from each direction to that beautiful visage, enduring it while frozen like a statue, silent and unsure how to react to this sudden double-team.

So much for that touch-up earlier. 

"Daddy, you jerk! You can't—" Wonyoung cries out, with this cute little stomp as she shields her face with her arms. You can't stop laughing and neither can Yujin as the assault continues, with an endless supply of ammo at the ready.

But you know that look, the silent fury hidden behind her pouting facade, the way her gaze stays fixated. Wonyoung has never been one to handle defeat too well. Never been one to take anything lying down. Left with no other option but to launch herself at you, she tackles you into the soft snow as you fall flat, completely unprepared to have her entire weight collapse on you.

That fury ignites, Wonyoung grabbing handfuls of snow, not even bothering to form a ball as she throws it, pelting your face. She doesn't let up one bit, almost cackling while she keeps you pinned down with an unreal amount of strength for such a small frame, finding satisfaction from each handful thrown.

"I can't believe you both turned on me," Wonyoung says with a frown, gathering up a fresh handful of snow that you block in self-defense.

"Come on, princess," Yujin says in the distance, joining in now that the danger's passed, collapsing down next to the both of you in the snow. "There are no rules when it comes to snowball fights. And our bratty little princess is such an easy target."

Wonyoung can’t help but sulk as Yujin helps brush some of the snow from her hair—and just like that, it becomes an unfair team-up, the two of them pinning you down, completely outnumbered. But there's no more powder being tossed, only kisses landing on your cheek while you three share this respite in the snow.

"Princess looks good covered in snow, don't you think, daddy?"

Almost forgetting her previous frustration, Wonyoung sighs, kissing your nose as that pout remains. "I look good covered in a lot of things, especially white."

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, and Yujin can only smile when Wonyoung leans over to lock lips, the pair falling back into an eager kiss that's all tongue and wandering hands.

"We should get daddy somewhere warm before he catches a cold," Yujin suggests between these wet kisses and cute giggles. Given how much snow you’re surrounded by, you can't disagree, although you're sure if either one decided to have their way with you right then and there, you'd hardly fight it. "No better time to use the hot tub, don't you think, princess?" 

Wonyoung pauses, stopping midway with her lips inches from Yujin. "Hot tub and daddy's cock, that sounds perfect." 

You’re more than ready to follow anywhere as they hoist you out of the snow, eager to get out of the cold and get warmed up. 

❄ ❄

Wonyoung is the first to drop into the warm, bubbling water, exchanging snow-covered clothes for a tiny red string bikini that leaves so little to the imagination. The hot tub feels heavenly in the cold when you lower in after, watching the way she leans back against the tub while pulling her hair free from a messy bun. Those dark locks cascade freely over her shoulders, head tilted back in relaxation as the water bubbles around her. 

"Mm, this feels amazing," Wonyoung murmurs, eyes fluttering as she submerges a bit deeper. You can’t disagree one bit, how this covered little patio gives a great view of campus while shielding from the cold that continues to fall, surrounded by hedges and a tall wooden fence—a secluded oasis of perfect privacy.

That's Yujin's cue—the sliding glass door opens when she arrives, not empty-handed either as she holds up a bottle of wine and three glasses. Her bikini is equally stunning, a bold black piece that is far from modest. Her curvy hips fill the fabric so well that it barely conceals anything—not her incredible thighs, nor that wonderfully full ass of hers.

"Brought a little Christmas present," Yujin says, smiling as she makes her way across the wooden deck, giving you plenty of time to admire her sinful body before she slips into the bubbling water to take the spot beside Wonyoung. 

It's all so surreal, spending a snowy, cold Christmas Eve in this hot tub, sitting back in the water, right across from heaven itself. Yujin's staring with that gleam in her eye, smiling so suggestively while pouring a rather generous amount of wine, holding out each glass for you to take. 

With a generous sip, Wonyoung's glossy lips stain the rim a pretty pink, nearly draining the contents before setting it down. Yujin does the same, although she's much more reserved, swirling the rich, red liquid around the glass before indulging in a taste of her own.

You’re not even going to attempt not to stare, eyeing both girls shamelessly—how Wonyoung's bikini top looks like a nuisance, the thin strings almost begging to be ripped right off, Yujin equally so. 

Wine downed, all it takes is one little look between Yujin and Wonyoung before a silent plan forms into motion. Yujin takes another sip of wine and gazes longingly, bringing the sole of her foot against your bulge, teasing you as she curls her toes, stroking up and down again until you throb.

"Daddy's a little excited to see our new bikinis," Yujin murmurs with her glass poised beneath her lips, taking another drink, never breaking eye contact. "Isn't that right?"

"I think we're more excited to take them off for him," Wonyoung adds, taking the glass from Yujin to gulp the rest of the wine as she joins in the teasing, and together, the two of them stroke the outline of your swelling cock through your swimming trunks. You groan out almost involuntarily, already feeling that need building as your shaft continues to strain against the fabric, growing harder with every second they toy with you.

"So hard for us already," Yujin giggles, keeping the attention on your cock with her toes rubbing at the tip and slowly downward again, drinking more wine while she strokes you.

Their toes tease and toy with you, as if your trunks aren't a barrier, managing to work you up—not even removing the offending item of clothing, just having their fun beneath the surface of the hot water while you try your hardest not to moan too desperately. 

"Let us take care of you, daddy…let us milk every last drop out,” Wonyoung says, almost pleading. 

Wonyoung licks her glossy lips, her toes squeezing tight, the head of your cock nestled between her big toe and next, massaging you nice and slow. With you throbbing with need, it's only a moment later the pair waste no time in yanking your swim trunks down, throwing the soaked article out of the hot tub and leaving you completely exposed.

You couldn't hope for anything better when Wonyoung scoots in closer and together with Yujin you're treated to this double-team, as they stroke in unison—fingers interlocked and tight, squeezing and twisting around your cock together in an all too familiar, synchronized fashion. 

"F-fuck—god, that feels so fucking good," you gasp, tilting your head back in pleasure, every motion those delicate fingers make along your cock so calculated, every stroke and squeeze just right. You can't hold back your pleasure—your body's all too responsive to their teasing, helpless against the pair working in tandem, up and down your swollen length, making you throb so intensely with every little movement their slender fingers make. 

All you can really do is give yourself a little distraction, untying the strings to Wonyoung's bikini free while she leans over and dips her tongue into your mouth, doing the same for Yujin next.

Tossing aside each discarded article of wet clothing, the bikinis get lost beneath the churning, bubbly water as your hands wander all along their perfect bodies, feeling their smooth, soft skin, gliding across each tight tummy, up to those perfect tits that you squeeze at, their nipples so stiff when you roll them beneath your thumbs. 

"Like that, daddy? When we stroke your cock like this?" Yujin purrs, like the groans you let out aren't enough of an answer, your hands playing with their tits just as greedily while the pressure builds between your legs. “We weren't kidding, we really are going to milk you. So just relax.” 

Not like you could do anything but that if you tried. 

Yujin leans closer in and smiles, dragging her tongue along your neck, planting slow kisses. And maybe they're taking their sweet time to show off their skill—how Yujin uses her thumb to smear precum along the tip of your cockhead, how Wonyoung plays with your balls, cupping them in her hands and squeezing gently to feel their fullness. 

"All we want for Christmas is to make you feel good, daddy. To make you cum as much as you want," Yujin says so seductively, kissing down your jawline until she nuzzles into your neck and teases over one of your nipples. "Let us spoil you even more than usual."

So hard to concentrate with all this bliss, and yet it's nearly impossible to not give in, knowing these two girls won't stop until there isn't anything left in your balls. They switch it up at a moment’s notice, Wonyoung working your shaft with her masterful fingers, Yujin preoccupied teasing your sensitive balls, drawing patterns with the tips of her painted fingernails. You’re just doing as instructed, sitting back and relaxing while they touch and tease you, finding new ways to drag every hint of pleasure out of your body. 

"This is my favorite part," Wonyoung muses. Her gaze is fixated entirely on your face as her hand works magic around the base of your cock, letting Yujin focus on your swollen cockhead, stroking fervently, so focused on bringing you as much ecstasy as possible, pumping without relent. 

"Princess," Yujin shifts around in the water, giving your balls a heavy squeeze that rips a moan from your throat. "Every part's your favorite."

"Yeah, and? Not my fault this cock is perfect in every way. Maybe I like seeing the way daddy's face is whenever he's about to explode..."

Every word from these girls' mouths only winds you up more and more, when their lips stay latched on your neck, where their teeth tease and kiss the sensitive skin. How Wonyoung gets such a tight grip with every twist of her wrist along your throbbing cock and never lets go, how they start alternating between themselves who takes over stroking and fondling your balls, working together, sometimes both hands on your shaft, sometimes playing with your balls.

You're every bit helpless, drowning in all the lust, cock throbbing with anticipation, ready to erupt all over those eager fingers, desperate to let go, to pump out everything you have stored in your heavy balls. And these two only seem to speed up when you're clearly ready to burst—Wonyoung working you faster than ever, hand pumping furiously while Yujin gets a nice handful of your balls, just fondling away with a few tugs here and there.

"Think daddy's almost there," Yujin says so matter-of-factly with this smugness in her voice and you know she’s not wrong—

You're reaching the edge and the feeling grows stronger by the second, not even thinking straight anymore. Every breath comes out shaky and frantic as you feel every little sensation, arms spread out along the ledge of the tub, biting your bottom lip to muffle a moan that doesn't quite work. 

"Daddy's gonna make such a huge mess. A big, thick load for us, right?” 

Those fingers from Wonyoung only move faster, hitting every single sweet spot on your shaft, and that's enough when Yujin cups your balls tight, working wonders and there's that edge right there, the sensation overflowing, your balls tightening, muscles tensed as you can no longer hold anything back—

"Shit, I-I'm gonna fucking—"

"Cum for us, daddy," they both whisper sweetly in unison, urging your orgasm out with their pleading stares. Then you’re groaning impossibly loud with their lips on either side of your neck, and finally blow your load when Yujin gives a squeeze to your balls just the right way—streams of hot white shooting under the water's surface from your throbbing cock as the relief hits all too fast. 

They make good on their promise to milk your release all out, Wonyoung squeezing your cockhead tight, thumb right there at the underside to make every shot feel better than the last, sticky and plentiful and all theirs. Meanwhile, Yujin's hot breath lingers in your ear the whole time, nibbling on your earlobe with this firm squeeze on your balls that seems to draw the rest out.

It's that moment of pure, utter euphoria that lasts longer than you're used to—thrusting your hips out of reflex, pumping out thick, creamy spurts all over their fingers, the duo draining your heavy balls and you think it might never end. 

"There's so fucking much," Wonyoung murmurs with glee, like she’s surprised when she’s mutually responsible for this release. Her fingers just keep milking your cock alongside Yujin, intent on dragging out every last drop your body can possibly offer. 

Even afterward, long after you've shot all the cum they can drain from you, there’s still a hand on your cock, one on your balls, both insistent on working every bit out they can as if you haven't let out enough. 

Between their soft hands on your sensitive cock and the bubbling jets of the hot tub, it’s more intoxicating than that expensive wine Yujin brought—they haven't gotten tired of jerking you off just yet, the water obscuring much of their activity below like they’re seeing whose name you'll groan more.

"Daddy always sounds so sexy when we make him cum," Yujin says all sultry in tone, dragging a single finger from your base, up and over that spot near the underside of your tip and keeping it there—rolling the pad of her fingertip in circles over the area where your cock seems most sensitive. “Hearing you let go... that's my favorite thing."

Before you can even catch a breath, Yujin is tilting your face towards hers, hungry lips crashing against yours, lost in this moment together, tasting the wine on her breath. 

And almost on cue, they let go of your cock and rise out of the water in unison, hopping onto the wooden deck with their dripping wet bodies. Your gaze travels all over, unable to make up your mind where to look—the way droplets trickle down Yujin's wet chest and over those pretty nipples so stiff as the frigid air caresses her skin. Or the way Wonyoung looks with that mess of wet hair cascading down over her shoulders, water clinging to her bare back and those supple ass cheeks her bikini bottom couldn't even hope to contain. 

Topless and soaking wet, the image is seared into your mind, and they don't bother putting anything on after drying off, not even bothered how the cold stings their naked flesh, and god, are you already aching to go again. 

When you step out and head back inside, there's a lingering pause—Yujin's the last one in before sliding the glass door shut, wrapping her arms around your chest from behind as she locks you into place. "We have one more present for you, daddy—right, princess?”

Her breath feels so hot, leaning against your body as her naked breasts press against your back. Wonyoung takes a sip of wine straight from the bottle before she puts it down on the kitchen counter. "Something like that." 

You can't ignore the mischievous smile they share as they head towards the stairwell in nothing but skimpy bikini bottoms. That look can't mean anything good—Wonyoung stays leaning on the banister, letting your eyes wander along her endless legs as she places a pretty pedicured foot on the second step.

The pose is intentional, allowing you to glimpse how tight and shapely that ass of hers is, how delicious her long legs look with that perfect figure accentuated in a red bikini, only making your cock pulse with need.

"How about you head upstairs in ten minutes, daddy?" Yujin suggests, untying a loose knot with her black bikini, the fabric loosening until it slips off her wide, curvy hips, falling on the floor as she starts descending the stairs. Now naked from head to toe, she takes her time up the stairs, enjoying your shameless ogling. 

No doubt she’s fully aware of how your eyes are glued to her every move, drawn to those sinful curves—from her bouncy, thick thighs to that irresistibly tempting ass that follows suit. Every inch of Yujin is a masterpiece put on display, all to make your cock throb harder with anticipation, bouncing her hair freely behind her shoulders, hips swaying all too hypnotically. 

Wonyoung mirrors those movements, throwing her bikini bottoms at you to catch, and the sight of each of them standing there naked, climbing up the steps right in front of you is too much temptation to take. 

Ten minutes is going to seem like an eternity. 

❄ ❄

The time goes by painfully slow. All that waiting, each minute taking longer than the last when you dip into the wine for something to occupy the time with. Who knows what these two are up to—

Hardly able to contain your eagerness any longer, you climb the steps after the promised ten minutes. Yujin's waiting right there in the doorway, standing completely naked and confident as ever with a devious look in her eye when you arrive.

"Took you long enough," she teases, grabbing your hand and leading the way inside the dark bedroom as she flicks the light switch on, illuminating the room with a soft glow. "Hope you're ready for your Christmas gift, daddy."

What Yujin steps aside to reveal is more than just a gift—Wonyoung all naked, tied up in your bed, and looking oh so vulnerable with her long arms above her head, slender wrists secured tight with red ribbons. The same treatment can be said for the rest of her delectable body, pale tits covered up in these festive ribbons all around that lead down to her flat stomach, so perfectly intricate and meticulously wrapped around her whole upper body. And the pattern doesn't end there, going even further, wrapping around those luscious legs of hers, bound together from her thighs down to her ankles, leaving her completely helpless and unable to move an inch.

Of all the things you expected this gift to be, this definitely wasn't on your radar—how all that red contrasts so perfectly against that milky white skin, a large bow right between her thighs covering just enough to tease. 

"Our little Christmas present. This pretty little slut all tied up just for daddy to unwrap," Yujin says, doing an exceptional job presenting Wonyoung. “Ready for daddy's big cock."

Your present has such a desperate look in her eyes, pretending to struggle with her restraints, the feel of ribbons on her naked body adding so much extra sensation. All for show, no doubt, because if there's anything Wonyoung loves more than being a brat, it's this—getting tied up and manhandled to your liking. 

"All yours, daddy." Yujin's voice has taken on this all too familiar sultry tone, smooth and breathy, practically an invitation on its own. "Have her any way you like. Use her like the good little fucktoy she is.” 

"Don't think I could ask for a better present.” 

That’s all you can manage to get out before Yujin dives into your lips with a rough kiss, tongue instantly invading your mouth, and Wonyoung can only stare helplessly from the bed while you devour one another. There's that greedy side Yujin lets out, nails digging into your skull as the kiss turns into something rougher, desperate, sloppy with saliva spilling down her lips and she shoves her tongue in further, getting a firm grip on your cock in the process. 

"P-please, daddy, need your cock—need it to ruin me so fucking bad. Want you to pound me like a fucking whore, daddy..."

Yujin gives a few full strokes to your cock that’s more than a little hard now, keeping you locked into the kiss while you moan into her mouth. "She's a little needy. Shoved a vibe in her while I was tying her up she's so fucking worked up for you. Made sure that pretty cunt got all nice and soaking wet.” 

"So thoughtful of you,” you say, stroking the back of Yujin's head as you gaze intently at Wonyoung on the bed, whimpering so pathetically as those bound thighs squeeze together, desperate for any friction.

"But before you do anything, daddy—let me warm your cock up just a little first. Our hungry little slut can wait a bit longer."

You don't even need to look over to know there's a pout forming when Yujin drops to her knees. Then there’s that warm fucking mouth sinking down, lips wrapped around your cock, sucking with such fervor from the very start. You can't help but groan deeply and Wonyoung has no choice but to watch from her helpless position.

All that warm saliva soaks every inch, like she can't get enough of your cock. Those soft lips glide along your length while Yujin bobs her head up and down—every motion filled with need, staring straight at you until she hits the base. 

"Shit, fucking hell, Yujin—" you mutter in amazement, because no matter how many times she gives these sloppy wet blowjobs, you can never quite get over how incredible that mouth is. How talented, how experienced she is at using every single tool in her arsenal, hands gripping tightly on your thighs to get every single inch down her throat, absolutely covered in messy warm saliva. 

Yujin doesn't even gag, slurping on your shaft and hollowing her cheeks, swallowing every last inch down until her lips press tight to your base, holding there as long as possible—

All that follows is a loud, lewd pop as Yujin withdraws entirely, lips now latched onto your heavy balls, giving them such a good slurp while stroking your cock that’s absolutely soaked with spit along the whole length. She makes such exaggerated slurps with those full lips around your sensitive sack, lips locked tight, humming deeply while keeping you in that intense gaze. The way she works your balls over with her tongue, rolling them so slowly, trapping them into her hot mouth has you raring to go. 

"Mm, your balls are so full and delicious, daddy,” Yujin breathes out, with a line of drool spilling from those gorgeous lips. "I could suck on them all fucking day, but you've got a needy little brat to breed."

One look over at your gift, so tempting, tied up, and tantalizing, and you have to agree, especially when the only thing you want is to ruin that warm, wet little cunt. There's no denying the effort Yujin's put into such sloppy sucking, getting your cock slick and primed to pump out another full load by the time you're done with your gift.

You don’t need to do anything else but climb the bed, unsure where to even start when Wonyoung is all wrapped up, every inch of that pale skin so flawless, all but begging for your touch. "Look at you, princess. You look so pretty like this, don't you think? All tied up and just for me."

"Daddy, please—" is all Wonyoung manages to get out, her whining interrupted as you place a finger on her pouting lips.

"Don't you worry, princess. I'm gonna use my Christmas gift just the way you deserve," you say, and loosen the red bow right between Wonyoung's thighs, not a bit surprised to find her dripping. She’s exactly how Yujin promised, looking so deliciously inviting and wet, the perfect place to bury your cock inside. "Your pretty cunt is gonna look so good pumped full of cum once I’m done with you.” 

"Yes daddy, make me your little cum dump. Use your gift and breed me until I'm leaking. I need you so bad..."

You decide to leave the ribbon around her tits for now, all that decorative red highlighting their shape, nipples no doubt just aching to be sucked and teased. The more your gaze lingers, the hungrier you become, taking a moment to enjoy the sight before you leave a trail of kisses all the way down.

And finally, when you've made your way to those bound-up thighs, you get a good grip on the ribbon with your teeth and tug. In one easy motion, you free that ribbon from those delicious legs and they spread apart on instinct—such a pretty sight to see that slick pussy just aching for your cock, perfectly wet and inviting. 

"So fucking beautiful," you say, and poor Wonyoung can't even touch herself like this. She’s so willingly at your mercy and can’t even show off her wetness to you like she usually does—but you'll get a good view from where you are, feel exactly how soaking wet she is when you slide right in. 

Reaching underneath, you get a good firm grip on her hips to pull her helpless body closer so you can tease her, sliding the head of your cock between those glistening lower lips. She’s all desperate when she groans, which only makes it more satisfying to watch her wriggle in these binds as you deny her the initial pleasure.

Before she can even open her mouth to complain, you're lifting her long, slender legs up in the air, resting them right on your shoulders, and getting a good look at where your cock is about to sink right in. Yujin appears right beside you then, kneeling on the bed, so very interested in witnessing you defiling this brat. 

"Hope you don't mind me watching you fill our present, daddy," Yujin says sweetly, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before shifting attention onto Wonyoung. 

"Not at all. Little slut loves an audience watching her get ruined. Isn't that right, princess?"

Wonyoung only manages to elicit a long whimper, face flushed a pretty shade of pink when your cock teases at her drenched entrance, a clear sign that yes, she does. Those legs rest nicely on your shoulders as you caress them, toes curling already from how close you are to being inside—and just like that, you give one pop of your hips, sinking deep, plunging the entirety of your length inside.

"Oh fuck, daddy!" she cries out as you fill her to the base with one rough thrust. "M-more, it's so good daddy, fill my pussy with your fucking cock, fill me so fucking good, ah—"

She’s so goddamn drenched that it’s impossible to do anything else. Her hot cunt swallows up your length right down to the very base as you bottom out with ease, impaling Wonyoung balls fucking deep without resistance. 

“Shit, princess—love your cunt, love how tight you are,” you growl out, and nothing else feels better than the pure heat and wetness that comes along with being inside Wonyoung. It’s heavenly, how she clenches around every throbbing inch, once you're hilted deep, determined to never let you out of that hot, velvety grip.

"Your pretty little pussy loves daddy's cock, doesn't it? Creaming all over him the second he fills you right up," Yujin purrs, getting such a good view from her position, how your cock impales that dripping cunt with so little effort. The fact that you haven't even really begun, only a single slow series of strokes so far, and she's already a soaked mess, squirming all around in these restraints, what's left of the ribbons clinging tight to that smooth porcelain flesh.

All this warm, slippery flesh that hugs your cock—Wonyoung is so fucking tight that it’s maddening. 

Despite getting railed good and often by the both of you, those velvety walls always clench up so impossibly tight around your shaft as it stretches her open, just like the first time. 

"Can’t imagine how tight you’re squeezing his huge cock, making daddy feel so damn good—princess must be so desperate to empty his balls straight into your womb. Is that what you want, baby? A nice, big, thick creampie, filling up this greedy little pussy?"

The lewd, depraved things that leave Yujin's lips are more than enough encouragement to keep this momentum building, pumping your cock in and out of Wonyoung’s wet heat like you belong there, buried all the way inside while those pale legs dangle from your shoulders.

"F-fuck, daddy, feels so good when you fuck me, when you're balls deep, so fucking deep—just ruin me, ruin daddy's pretty little slut, please…” 

So easy to oblige her when she’s begging like this, that you can’t help hugging those creamy long legs while you piston your hips at a merciless pace. So easy to see the desperation in her eyes, and the harder you move, the more erratic she gasps out while you ram your cock through all the wet flesh of her slick cunt, the sound of skin on skin echoing around the room. 

“God, princess—you feel so incredible,” you groan, hips relentless as you plunge so deep. Somewhere along the way, Yujin slides up next to Wonyoung, encouraging that stream of pathetic noises, each sweet moan punctuating your harsh thrusts.

"Just listen to her, daddy. Listen how she enjoys that big fucking cock rearranging her guts—pretty little whore is about to cum any second now, isn't she?" Yujin asks, her fingers dancing across Wonyoung's chest, tracing the intricate details of the red ribbons clinging tightly to her smooth, silky skin. "Wanna give her what she wants? Get this slut all folded up and maybe she'll cum a little faster for you?"

Without a doubt, you know Wonyoung would love nothing more than that, your cock just plunging inside, pounding deep inside over and over again—

So you do exactly what Yujin suggests, pushing both legs forward towards her head, until her knees almost hit her shoulders. Then you've got her all folded in half, the perfect position to hit even deeper, putting those flexible limbs to good use, arms still helplessly tied together. “D-daddy!” 

And that's when you give a rough slam back inside her dripping cunt, immediately having the intended effect when you bottom out so easily at such a different angle, your heavy balls slamming right up against her ass while you drive all those loud cries out of her mouth—

"D-daddy, fuck! So fucking deep, s-shit, you're gonna make me cum, oh please, g-gonna make me fucking cum!"

When her words devolve into desperate babbles, that's when you know you're doing something right. You’re driving every inch into her, leaving that cunt so impossibly slick when you pound into that flesh that grips without relent. 

"There you go, daddy, keep fucking her like that. Use this pretty little fuckdoll until she's gushing all over your huge cock," Yujin encourages from beside, turning all her focus now onto Wonyoung as she leans right in to wrap a hand around that pale throat, squeezing firmly, and fuck—

Wonyoung just falls apart. Then she's just whimpering, every sound she tries to make barely audible when she's cumming on your cock, eyes rolling to the back of her head. There's nothing more beautiful, listening to her broken moans, how she's downright sobbing from the pleasure, letting you ruin her as she drenches your entire cock, that climax flooding out like a broken fucking faucet and threatening to shove you right out. 

But instead, it just makes you pound into her that much harder, fucking her near delirious as she makes such a mess, gushing all over you while you keep pounding away until she's a shaking, trembling wreck.

"Look at our pretty present, cumming so fucking hard while you destroy that pussy," Yujin says, getting an even tighter grip around Wonyoung's neck, applying enough pressure to watch the girl's expression crumble. "That pussy is so good, isn't it? Wrapped around that big fucking cock of yours, must be so fucking desperate for your cum to be dumped inside.” 

She’s not even a little wrong, that wetness covering your whole length, your balls completely slick from just how Wonyoung absolutely floods out, and you’re not far behind.

"Princess, fuck—“you groan, pounding away into that dripping heat, this filthy squelch coming from between her legs growing even louder the longer you plunge deep. “Gonna fucking fill you right up, gonna breed you, empty everything inside this pretty fucking cunt." 

Wonyoung can't even form enough words to beg, hair matted all over her sweat-covered forehead, body going limp while you keep using her body like she’s built to be a toy. And then Yujin's suddenly there, right behind you, fingers cradling your balls so delicately while your cock pistons in and out of this heat—

"Can't wait to watch you breed this fucking cumslut. Want you to dump everything into her cunt, empty your balls, make her leak all of that thick creamy load everywhere," Yujin says, voice so sultry, hot breath all over you as those fingers squeeze so dangerously close. 

Unsurprisingly, Yujin doesn't stop there, fingers stimulating all sorts of sensitive areas, like she can feel everything that needs to be drained, each firm squeeze causing a jolt through your entire body. 

That hot breath moves away for only a fleeting moment, with Yujin abandoning her grasp on your balls while you keep those hips churning, sending a barrage of thrusts into that wet, hot vice of Wonyoung's pussy. And before you have time to miss Yujin’s touch, her tongue, slick and hot all at once starts teasing your ass, tongue prodding slowly and meticulously.

You can't even respond with anything but groans of appreciation, losing your train of thought each time Yujin gets her tongue buried so deep, taking such good care of you, urging you to blow your load inside Wonyoung. 

And god—that mouth does wonders as Yujin toys around the rim of your ass, making all sorts of sinful noises behind you. Through these intense licks, her hand works up a firm massage for those cum-filled balls, and you don't know which does more damage, or if it's simply a combination of both that sends you over the edge—but you can't resist anymore. 

"Breed me daddy, breed me so fucking full, need your hot fucking seed inside—p-please, please, cum in me. Want your hot fucking load in me, empty those huge fucking balls right in my little pussy, fuck, please please please—"

Hearing your helpless little gift so needy, pleading frantically for you to finish in her, mouth hanging open, with drool spilling down those red lips, that's what does you in. 

One final slam, balls deep into her tight, needy little pussy, and you don't waste a second unloading it all—pumping the biggest load, so fucking thick and heavy straight into her cunt. Each shot is so powerful, Yujin's tongue back in play, pressed right up against your asshole, making you groan even more while the palm of her hand gently massages and rolls your swollen, heavy balls around, coaxing every last drop from them to empty you completely. 

All that sticky warmth that empties endlessly into Wonyoung, painting the slick depths of her insides white—and it makes her squirt out even more, flooding all around your cum-coated length still buried deep inside as you fill her up, all the way to her womb. 

You’ve already unloaded so much inside, fucking it deeper until it's overflowing back out. Only when Yujin pulls her tongue from your ass do your thrusts finally stop, an absolute deluge of hot, thick seed that she's delighted to see leak out of Wonyoung when you gradually pull out. 

"Look at that," Yujin says with so much delight in her voice, getting an up-close view of the mess you've just made and having herself a taste. She laps it all right up with her eager tongue, slurping so loudly at the mix of your hot cum and that nectar from Wonyoung. “Dumped so fucking much into our little cumslut. Mm, fuck, that pussy must feel so full with daddy's hot load leaking out…” 

Between the panting, the heavy breaths, chest still heaving, Wonyoung gives a small little nod while you rest at the side of the bed, cock still glistening with a complete mess of your cum and hers. 

Yujin however, has all the energy in the world as she cleans up the aftermath, hands gripping so tightly onto Wonyoung’s milky thighs, face buried deep in between. She's every bit selfish, tongue dragging up to lick through those delicious cum-covered folds, so satisfied when she gathers up what leaks out. 

"Daddy’s cum tastes so fucking good when it's been pumped inside this needy slut," Yujin says, getting back to work sucking up the remnants of your huge dripping load. She's so ravenous when it comes to cleaning Wonyoung up, taking another indulgent lick right down the center, chin nearly glazed already. "So fucking messy too.”

For her part, all Wonyoung does is moan and whine as Yujin gives a few slaps to that already sensitive cunt, and you’re just watching all the wetness transfer from Wonyoung's heat into that eager mouth, who devours it all so happily. 

Were you not entirely exhausted, you'd be tempted to get right behind, slide into Yujin’s heavenly cunt, and empty whatever you have left into her next. Still might, but you're entirely useless at the moment, letting these two indulge themselves.

"Yujinnie—" Wonyoung whines, voice ragged from being thoroughly wrecked, but tone so very needy, as if begging for another release. And Yujin gets her lips sealed right on that engorged clit, giving exactly what Wonyoung desires. 

"Doesn't look like our present's tired yet. Should we untie her so she can empty your balls again? Maybe have her take your cock deep into that perfect ass while I ride your face? Sounds fun, doesn't it, daddy?"

Nothing sounds better. Maybe you don't need a respite just yet after all. 

❄ ❄

After round two (and then three and then four), a change of scenery is needed. So you all share a shower, change into comfy, festive pajamas, and head over to the spacious couch in the living room. The scent of pine permeates throughout the whole room, with this massive Christmas tree lit up with colorful lights the center of attention. 

There's no better time to indulge in the holiday spirit, lazing about on the couch where you find yourself pleasantly trapped between Yujin and Wonyoung, cuddling up alongside you for warmth while some cheesy Christmas movie plays in the background. 

The snow really starts coming down, heavier by the minute, enough that you'll be stuck inside—not that there's a reason to venture outdoors. Especially not when you have everything you could possibly want right here, hot cocoa, an excessive number of cookies, and the two prettiest girls on campus all over you.

"Merry Christmas, daddy," Yujin says seemingly out of nowhere, finding a nice spot to rest her head right upon your chest, playing with the pom-pom at the end of your hat. Not exactly what you pictured wearing for the entire night, but it's so impossible to say no to Yujin's requests, so you'll wear whatever she puts on you to keep that smile on her face.

"Merry Christmas, Yudolph.” You can hardly finish the sentence without laughing at that ridiculous headband, reindeer antlers looking so cute atop her pretty head.

"No fair, you can't just steal my nickname," Wonyoung complains from the other side, grabbing a cookie from the plate on the coffee table. She feeds you the first bite before shoving the rest into her mouth, so unprincess-like the way she scarfs the rest down. 

"Why not, princess? What's yours is mine, anyway," Yujin replies, planting a kiss right on your cheek as proof. Wonyoung hardly stays mad, too caught up in eating another cookie before wiping the crumbs away from her mouth. She's almost embarrassed by the kiss that Yujin then plants on the corner of her lip, quickly flustered and so out of character, even though Yujin has never been shy to hide her affection. 

"Daddy is all mine, so that means you are too, Yudolph," Wonyoung counters, planting a little kiss to both of your faces, getting cute giggles from Yujin in response.

"Wow, did our princess finally learn how to share?" you ask, poorly stifling a laugh. 

"Don't count on it," Yujin says rather bluntly, still bouncing your pom-pom around with her fingers. "Anyway, it's almost midnight. What did Santa bring us tonight?"

"Hmm, what did he bring us, what's in these gifts?" Wonyoung asks so innocently, looking at the assortment of presents sitting near the tree, like there's more than just the three of you in this room. "A brand-new sexy set of lingerie and heels for Yujinnie? Maybe that leather catsuit you were talking about the other day..."

Yujin gets this little smirk on her face when she hears Wonyoung mention such a thought.

"And what about me?" Wonyoung continues. "I hope Santa brought me more outfits, I could use a new dress and lots of cute skirts to model for daddy—" 

"I don't think the princess gets anything after being on the naughty list this year," you add, earning a very cute pout from Wonyoung. 

"Isn't that every year for her?" Yujin asks, chuckling because she knows how true it is, not that being a brat never stops her from taking such pride in it.

"Hey, I deserve a nice present too, after all the times I'm on my knees. Santa better reward me well this year," Wonyoung says, whining so dramatically.

"Doesn't he reward you enough? Filling you up every time you sit on his lap?" Yujin asks, rather rhetorically, and this conversation might be the end of you.

"As if I could ever get enough of daddy pulling my hair and spanking my ass red. I'm on the top of the naughty list for a reason." 

You have a very hard time not laughing at how utterly ridiculous and proud that statement is.

"Well, don't worry princess. We have something very special for you," Yujin reassures, giving her one more peck on the forehead. "So, wanna get Santa his gift? I think we've all been plenty naughty anyway,"

"Nuh-uh, I'm not moving an inch. Daddy's too warm and comfy for me to get up," Wonyoung says in protest, snuggling into the crook of your neck and wrapping her arms even tighter around your chest. Yujin can't exactly argue there, joining in to ensure you can't possibly move, trapping you so nicely between the both of them.

"Too warm and comfy," Yujin repeats, and you're more than content to never move from this spot ever again. It's the kind of warmth you never want to leave, especially not on a night as chilly as this one, the perfect excuse to spend hours cooped up by the fireplace together.

"Merry Christmas, daddy—" They both say in unison as the clock finally strikes midnight. "You're not going anywhere, we won't let you."

This is absolutely the best present you could ask for.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao

——

Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).

The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.

Danny took out his phone.

“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”

Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”

“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”

“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.

“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”

“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”

“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”

“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”

“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.

“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”

“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”

Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.

Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.

Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.

“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.

If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.

——

Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.

“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.

Batman grunted a yes.

“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”

Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.

"Is this..."

"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."

Batman stared at the picture.

"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"

"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."

Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.

"I heard you had something about Luthor?"

Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."

Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.

"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.

"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.

"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"

Batman grunted.

"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."

Batman swiveled his head over. "What."

Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."

Batman stilled.

"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."

Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."

"And why not?"

Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"

"... Point."

[gh0stsp1d3r]

could u do bestfriend!rafe with bunny girlygirl reader like theyre more than friends but havent put a name on it so theyre just soecial bestfriends for now

“ℬℯ𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹𝓈“ 𝒹ℴ𝓃𝓉 𝒹ℴ 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉

When Rafe wasn’t at Tannyhill, some shitty party, or out golfing with his friends, he was probably with you. Although he was always with you, even doing all of that.

“Jesus, did you have to bring her along?” Topper mumbled to Rafe, having to hear your endless yapping about something neither boys really cared about. Kelce currently drove the gulf cart, zoning tour talking out.

Even after, when all the boys had gone and it was just you both in his truck, you sat with him happily at an ice cream shop. He sat across from you, slowly eating it and enjoying your company.

“You got some..” he motioned to the corner of your lips, you furrowed your eyebrows and attempted to wipe it off, you missing the spot. He leaned over the table, wiping it off with his finger.

His body moved as if time had slowed down, his hand trembling as he swiped it over your lip. Even the slightest contact making him freak the fuck out.

Jesus, he felt like a lovesick teenager. “Something was wrong, man the fuck up. This is your best friend.” Is what his thoughts told him.

Your eyes widened, your cheeks heating up and you looking away as he pulled his hand away, retreating back onto the other side.

“Thanks.” You murmured, giving him a small smile and the both of you wordlessly eating your ice cream again.

You stared outside, the grey clouds looking over. It started to rain, and you both silently and comfortably watched the raindrops fall.

“Thanks, em, I’ll see you later!” You told your friend, who also happened to work at the ice cream shop, waving bye to her as you shut the door.

Your hands were entwined with Rafe’s, and you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked out at the pouring rain.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asked when he began to step forward, but felt you not budging.

“I can’t get in the rain, especially not in these heels or this dress.” You shook your head, a small pout on your face as you looked at him. He shrugged.

“It’s just a lil rain.”

“A little? It’s pouring!” You looked at him, with those sweet eyes he couldn’t resist.

Rage sighed, thinking for a moment.

He pulled his jacket off, and stepped behind you, holding it above your head.

You looked up, and behind you again, smiling at Rafe who tried to hold a smile back.

But you noticed the way the corners of his lips slightly tugged up.

You turned around, beginning to walk, Rafe following your every move and using his jacket as your umbrella all the way to the car, where the both of you ran and jumped in.

He started the car, you staring at him.

“Thank you, Rafey!” You suddenly spoke, and before he could even open his mouth you were leaning over and kissing him on his cheek. He was taken aback.

His movements stopped, a hue of pink on his face. As well as the pink lipstick you had on, which was now stained on him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He shrugged it off, looking away and out the window while beginning to drive out the parking lot.

He drove to your house, you thanking him again before jumping out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, rolling down the window.

“Yeah!” You called back, giving him a smile and turning back to the steps.

He watched you open the door and scurry inside before driving off. He shook his head to himself as he drove over to Barry’s.

He pounded on the door, making Barry annoyed as he opened the door.

“What? What?” He mumbled, opening it. Rafe pushed his way inside the trailer, sitting down and putting his cash down.

“Jesus, okay.” Barry spoke, rolling his eyes as he went over to where he kept his shit, grabbing a bag and handing it over to Rafe.

When Rafe snorted his line, Barry noticed something on his cheek. A faint kiss mark.

Barry snorted, Rafe furrowing his eyebrows.

“What?”

Barry scratched his own cheek, making rafe groan as he remembered. “Gotta…”

Rafe’s eyes widened, attempting to wipe it off.

“Got some girl you hiding, country club?” Barry asked him, teasing as he leaned back.

“No.. it’s my fuckin’ friend.”

“That y/n bitch?”

“Don’t… call her that.” Rafe paused his movements, looking at Barry.

“She got you on a leash, man.” Barry barked out a laugh again, putting his hands up in mock defense.

“She’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t kiss as far as I’m concerned.” Barry shrugged.

“On the cheek, not even on the lips.”

“Yeah, course. Friends my ass.” He mumbled the last part to himself.

“Whatever.” Rafe pushed himself off the couch.

“Aye, man, no offense. Everyones been saying that shit.”

“Who?” He snapped his head towards Barry.

“Everyone. Shit, if I was you? I’d been in those pants a longggg time ago. You a lucky man, country club.” Barry shrugged.

“Do not fucking speak about her like that.” Rafe told him again, banging on the walls of the trailer.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Rafe opened and slammed the door, Barry laughing to himself and shaking his head.

“Pussy.”

[burningembers91]

Freak of Nature - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The Salesman can't get enough of you, he's drawn to you like a bee to honey. It's just a shame you don't know he's watching you.

A/N: I'm not 100% sure where I want this to go yet, and i've never written for a character like The Salesman before but Gong Yoo's unhinged performance has me hooked!

Warnings: 18+ only!, stalking, The Salesman needs his own warning

He’d always known he was fucked up; had always known he wasn’t “normal”. From a young age, his parents had thrown every penny available at psychologist after psychologist, desperate to find a cure for their little freak of nature. Nothing had worked though; nothing had been able to quell that constant desire deep within his soul.

He’d spent years being forced to subdue whatever demons he housed, fooling his parents into thinking the therapy was working. Nothing could save him though; nothing could rid him of the evil that had taken root. He enjoyed playing with people, relished in seeing how far he could take a person before they completely snapped. Human life was so fragile and fickle; why shouldn’t he be allowed to play with it? People so often wasted their lives; took what little time they had for granted. If anything, he was helping people. He was giving them a chance at a second opportunity for life. The games he played with people, the innocent, childhood games were all completely legal. He never made anyone do anything they didn’t want to, that was beauty of his job. Everyone always had a choice, he just made it hard for them to say no. People were greedy, hungry for fame and fortune. He gave those who sought riches beyond their wildest dreams a chance to make that dream a reality; it wasn’t his fault if they didn’t win the game.

This life he led was a lonely one though. Relationships had never been his forte. He’d always been too much for women, too intense. He had needs, desires that few could meet and those who could only stayed a short time. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of love. He knew he’d never loved his parents, had never loved any of the women he’d fucked. They were merely an object which he used to meet his own needs, all of them too vain and fickle for him. He enjoyed a challenge, wanted someone who could keep him on his toes. But how would he find someone like that when even he didn’t know how far he was wiling to go? How high did his freak flag fly? No one had ever stayed long enough for him to find out. He usually paid for the company of a woman, handing them wads of cash so he could feel a brief moment of ecstasy. He’d never felt anything for these women though; had never felt the burning desire that he felt when he was around you.

He'd watched you every day for three months now, sipping your latte in the same coffee bar, your laptop open as you marked your students work. You always sat in the same spot, right by the window with the view of the park opposite. He’d taken to sitting on a bench in that park, right opposite where you sat. He’d watched as your brow furrowed while you marked essays, he’d smile at the way your perfect pink tongue delicately flicked the frothy coffee foam from your top lip. You were perfect to him, so innocent and excruciatingly delicate. He’d followed you home a few times, keeping enough of a distance that you didn’t notice him in the crowds, but close enough that the floral scent of your perfume wrapped tightly around his senses like a hangman’s noose.

He knew you lived in a small studio apartment, number 235. Your bedroom looked out over a small restaurant, and he’d sit there some nights, watching the shadows of your form through your curtains. He’d never been this enamoured with a person before, never craved a person as much as he did you. He’d listened to you order your coffee a dozen times, your voice more beautiful than any songbird. He wanted to speak to you, but he didn’t want to shatter the perfect vision he’d created for himself. In his head, he broke you over and over again, but you enjoyed it. In his head, you were his, bending to his every will and demand. In his head, you were his perfect girl. But fantasy was always better than reality, and reality never lasted long. He wasn’t quite ready to show himself to you, choosing to lurk in the shadows as you remained blissfully unaware of him.

It was getting harder and harder to stay away from you though. Every day your very presence only fuelled his desires. One day soon he’d have to show himself to you. He just hoped you lived up to his expectations.

[sigh-tofm]

if you’re their sugar baby… (18+)

… price

- absolutely spoils you. adores giving you anything you want. if your gaze lingers in a shop window, he’ll buy you whatever’s in it. you suspect he’s infiltrated your phone somehow, because anything you look at online will show up on your doorstep a few days later. he takes you to private jewellery fittings and sits back with a glass of whisky while the jewellers puts glimmering necklaces and earrings on you.

in return, he likes showing you off. regularly takes you out to restaurants so expensive they don’t even list their prices on the menu. spoon feeds you black caviar and picks out the correct wine, the bottles so old they still have wax seals on them. loves seeing you wearing the dresses he buys for you, revealing the fleshier parts of your body that the rest of society tells you to hide. always wants you to wear diamonds in your ears when you’re his date. nothing is ever too expensive if it’s for you.

takes you to a luxurious hotel after and fucks you good and well in the satin sheets. goes back to base before you wake up the morning after, and leaves a generous cash tip on the nightstand in addition to the monthly four digit payments transferred directly to your bank account.

… kyle

- takes care of you. a sergeant’s pay is low compared to a captain’s, but it’s still a substantial amount and much, much more than you make. enjoys having a pretty lady to spoil. any visit to the hairdresser or nail salon is on him. will occasionally request a specific colour for your nails, and you know it’s to match a dress he’s bought you, waiting for you at home.

takes you dancing, spends the whole night downtown and treats you to high-end street food at three in the morning. you get fancy cocktails and colourful shots and anything else you want to try. if another woman gets close to him on the dance floor, he makes a point out of feeling you up, splaying his hands over you wide hips and soft tummy.

takes you home to his and you both fall right to sleep, waking up past noon the day after. arranges a massage for you to help with your hangover. sits in on the appointment and flips your towel up to eat you out when the massage therapist leaves. reminds you to use the credit card he’s given you in between your orgasms.

… johnny

- whisks you away to scotland when he’s off duty. borrows the family cabin in the highlands and accommodates you both in the master bedroom, spending the cold nights in a grand bed with a heavy pelt covering the duvet. loves the fantasy of having a big, soft secret stowed away in the mountains.

spends the days hiking with you or takes you down to the coast, where you watch the wild waves and enjoy cottage pie in a local pub. asks for the finest whiskey, refusing anything but the best for you. tells you all about the history of the old stone kirk of the town over steaming mugs of spiked cider.

lays the pelt out on the floor before the great fireplace in the living room and grins when you mention the cliché of it all. remarks that clichés exist for a reason and pulls you close. your skin grows goosebumps in the cold air of the cabin, but the fireplace (and the rigorous activity on the pelt rug) warms you both up. lays with you after, smoothing his hand over your side and enjoying how your soft body gives way to the pressure of his fingers. pays for first class on your flight back home and gives you cash enough to cover both rent and supplies for the month. makes out with you messily at the airport before you part ways.

… simon

- takes you along to all his going ons outside of active duty. enjoys having a partner in crime, so to speak. in the military he’s a lone wolf, so when he’s off he just wants to have you for company. price thinks it’s a good idea for him too, to at least pretend he has some normalcy in his life. you oblige. he takes you to all his mundane errands; groceries, changing the tires of his car, walking the old bridle paths in his area.

has you tucked in under his arm when the footie’s on in the evening, trays of hot takeaway on the sofa table. if you can’t decide what you want to order, he has you list everything you’re interested in and orders it all. entertains your questions about football terminology and plays with your hair. pulls a blanket over you when you’re close to falling asleep and turns the volume down.

herds you to bed after a little while and so enjoys having a warm, soft body to put his arm around at night. to you, it’s all so casual and natural that you almost forget it’s an arrangement, but he never forgets to pay for your company according to your agreement and always tips generously.

doesn’t say it out loud, but likes it when you straddle him on the sofa and lets him feel you up and make out with you until he comes in his pants like a schoolboy.