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#short-term lease apartment
wausaupilot · 1 year
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Wausau approves bantr short-term rentals but review still necessary
The change from an apartment lease arrangement to include hotel room-style use still needs to be approved by the Wausau Plan Commission later this month.
Damakant Jayshi City leaders on Tuesday granted a request from bantr company to expand apartment leases to include short-term rentals and hotel rooms. The change from an apartment lease arrangement to include hotel room-style use still needs to be approved by the Wausau Plan Commission later this month. The vote to approve the second amendment to the development agreement with bantr’s RJ Elm…
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jellogram · 8 months
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It's so funny how different the front pages of airbnb is compared to like, the actual parts that are usable if you're not rich. Like the homepage is all like "Stay in this UFO for $2400 a night!" "Here's a mansion in Malibu for $9,000 a night!" "We have a weekend available in October 2024!" but I go to my saved listings and itineraries and it's like "Here is a basement with a hot plate and no shower doors. 30+ day rentals only, starting at $1100 a month, available immediately."
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coliverentalhomes · 9 months
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Pros and Cons of renting an apartment on short term lease
While renting an apartment, there is a choice to opt for lease tenure. You can go for a short-term lease or long-term lease based upon your requirement. A rental lease with tenure of less than 6 months can be termed as a short-term lease. Team Colive reviews the pros and cons of short-term rental lease.
Pros of short-term rental lease
Quite often renters are interested in shorter lease options for the flexibility that it offers. Colive reviews some of the benefits of short-term rental lease:
It takes time to settle into a new PG and there is a fair chance that you may not like the PG much after moving in. In this case, short term lease can be a life saver as you can switch over to another, better PG as soon as the lease tenure of the existing PG is complete.
Individuals that are exploring new job opportunities can benefit more from shorter lease option as it gives them the desired flexibility to switch PG if the new job location is far from their current PG setting.
It works well even in times when one may have to move temporarily or permanently to another city for some work assignment.
Cons of a short-term rental lease
Short-term lease does have some drawbacks as well. Colive reviews the cons of choosing a short term lease so you can properly analyse which setting suits you best. Read on:
Short-term lease generally costs more than its counterpart. In this case, the renter pays more in the short term and eventually ends up paying more in the long-term as well if chooses to extend stay at the same PG.
The hike in monthly rent rate could be more frequent. This is because each time the lease is renewed, the property owner gets the chance to increase the rent for the new lease.
 The lease terms could be changed at the time of each lease renewal.
So, depending upon your situation and requirement; you can choose to go for short-term or long-term lease agreement. Irrespective of the lease tenure; you can easily find the best PG for yourself in Bangalore by visiting the Colive website. Here, you can simply filter the search results based upon your specific requirement in terms of lease tenure, location, amenities and much more. So, choose Colive for comfortable and flexible rental stay in Bangalore. Happy Coliving!!
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yesperono · 1 year
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Uuuuuggghhhghggggggh I’m so worn out, I’ve been living with my parents for the past week or so bc my lease ended early, and I have a new place lined up but I can’t move in until the 3rd bc work is too much to deal with to move in sooner AND watching 2 dogs by myself bc my parents are out of town and it’s really starting to show how much routine disruption is affecting me and my self discipline. I cant leave the house very often except to walk the dogs or get groceries purely bc I don’t have the mental spoons. And I’m getting paid a little to watch them and I got paid for my job last Friday so I have cash but not enough time or energy to really enjoy it
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undressrehearsal · 8 months
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dare to be stupid
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summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)
a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk
part 2
“Truth or dare?” 
It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.
And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 
She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 
You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 
Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 
Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 
You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 
“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 
Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 
Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 
Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 
“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 
Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 
Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 
Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 
There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 
In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 
When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 
You grinned. “$200.” 
Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 
“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”
Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 
You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 
“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 
“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 
You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”
Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 
Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 
Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”
Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 
You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 
Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 
You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 
“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 
“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”
Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 
“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 
You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 
This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 
“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 
Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 
She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.
“Don’t-” 
“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 
“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 
“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 
“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 
Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 
Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 
“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.
And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 
“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 
You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 
“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 
You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”
You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 
“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 
It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 
So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 
She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 
“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 
And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 
You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 
You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 
You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.”
“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 
For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.
“How would you rate your last kiss?” 
You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 
“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 
Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 
Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 
Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 
Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 
You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 
“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 
Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 
And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 
You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 
And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 
Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 
Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 
That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 
“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 
And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 
Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 
And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 
Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 
“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 
She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 
The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 
Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 
“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 
“What?” 
“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 
“Truth,” you sighed. 
One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 
You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 
It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 
Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 
This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 
And you decided to play her game. 
“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 
Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 
You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 
She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 
But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 
“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 
You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 
The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.
“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 
Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 
“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 
You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 
She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 
Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 
Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 
You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 
You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 
Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 
“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 
And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 
Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 
Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 
You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 
You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 
And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 
And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 
And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 
Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 
It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 
Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-
A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 
Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 
When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 
The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 
Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 
You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 
Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 
You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”
The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 
Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 
You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 
When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 
Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 
You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 
Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 
“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 
She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.
You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 
You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.
Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 
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citygatesuites · 2 years
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Toronto Corporate Housing Rentals: Navigating the City's Best Locations for Business Travelers
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When travelling to Toronto for business, finding the right corporate housing rental can be a crucial part of ensuring a comfortable and productive stay. With so many great locations to choose from, it can be tough to decide which area is right for you. To help narrow down your search, here's a rundown of some of the best neighbourhoods for Toronto corporate housing rentals.
 Financial District:
This bustling area in the heart of downtown is the perfect location for business travellers looking to stay close to their meetings and events. With easy access to public transportation, as well as some of the city's top restaurants and entertainment options, the Financial District is a great choice for those who want to be in the thick of things.
Yorkville:
Known for its high-end shopping, upscale restaurants, and luxury hotels, Yorkville is a popular choice for business travellers who want to stay in a stylish and sophisticated neighbourhood. With its central location and proximity to some of the city's top cultural attractions, Yorkville is a great option for those who want to mix business with pleasure.
Entertainment District:
 If you're looking for a neighbourhood with a vibrant nightlife and plenty of entertainment options, the Entertainment District is a great choice. Located in the heart of downtown, this neighbourhood is home to some of the city's best theatres, nightclubs, and restaurants, making it a popular destination for business travellers who want to unwind after a long day of meetings.
North York:
For those who prefer a more suburban feel, North York is a great option. This neighbourhood offers a more relaxed pace of life, with plenty of green spaces and family-friendly amenities. Despite its quieter vibe, North York is still well-connected to downtown Toronto, making it a great choice for those who want to enjoy the best of both worlds
When it comes to corporate housing rentals in Toronto, there's no shortage of great options to choose from. Whether you're looking for a bustling downtown location or a more relaxed suburban feel, there's a neighbourhood that's sure to meet your needs. With a little research and planning, you're sure to find the perfect rental for your next business trip to Toronto.
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random2908 · 2 years
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From my lease agreement for my new apartment.
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urfavoritewriter · 9 months
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More Than Neighbors
A commission for an anonymous user here on Tumblr, thank you for commissioning me!
Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Endo, Digestion, Melting Digestion, Multiple Instances of Vore, burping
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The sun cast a warm glow over the new neighborhood as Jake and Andrew arrived at their freshly leased apartment. The building, a quaint three-story structure, stood proudly with a coat of welcoming beige paint. As they stepped inside, the scent of fresh paint tickled their noses—a sign that this place was truly their canvas to fill.
The apartment had a cozy charm, with sunlight streaming through the large windows that adorned the living room. The kitchen, though compact, exuded a functional elegance, complete with gleaming appliances and granite countertops. A promising beginning to their life together.
With an exchange of glances and a shared smile, Jake and Andrew embarked on a rhythm of unpacking. The air was charged with the excitement of new beginnings. The sound of cardboard boxes being shuffled and furniture being arranged reverberated through the apartment.
Jake's lively voice, filled with enthusiasm, echoed, "Babe, I'm thinking the couch should go right here, what do you say?"
Andrew, a bit more measured in his responses, replied, "Yeah, that works. Gives a nice view of the TV and opens up the space."
Their shared brainstorming intertwined with the mundane yet significant task of setting up their home. Little did they know that this cozy abode would soon become the stage for a more unconventional kind of interaction with their neighbor. Or, at the very least, one that Jake attempted to hide really well.
"I'd love to stay and help, but I've got to go to work. Maybe wait on the heavier tasks till I'm back home, and set up what you can until then," Andrew suggested, a hint of regret in his voice as duty called him away.
Jake nodded, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "Sure thing, babe. I'll leave the heavy lifting for when my strong man is back in action." He winked playfully, earning a chuckle from Andrew.
As Andrew prepared to head out the door, Jake couldn't resist a mischievous comment, "Thinking of greeting our neighbors later. You know, being the friendly new guy in the building."
Andrew shot him a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a smirk. "Just don't get into any trouble. And no overly friendly offers, alright?" he quipped.
Jake feigned innocence, a twinkle in his eye. "Who, me? Never!" he teased, giving Andrew a quick peck on the cheek before sending him off to work with a playful swat on the butt. "Hey, I just want to make sure we're on good terms with everyone around here. Plus, who knows, maybe they're super cool."
With a peck on Jake's cheek, Andrew replied, "Alright, social butterfly. Do us proud. See you later, okay?"
"Sure thing. Have a good day at work!" Jake replied, continuing the mundane task of unboxing their many sentimental objects for the next hour.
Jake took a moment in the shiny new bathroom, adjusting his hair and shirt. He wanted to make a good first impression, not just for himself but also for Andrew. With a deep breath, he looked at himself in the mirror, nodding as if giving himself a mental pep talk.
Feeling ready, Jake strolled out of the apartment, locking the door behind him, and headed for the next door. It felt a bit odd, making the rounds so soon, but he figured it was better to know his neighbors sooner rather than later.
Arriving at the door, he took another moment, clearing his throat and then knocked twice. The anticipation was a mix of nerves and excitement, not knowing who would answer the door.
The door creaked open, revealing a man with a dad bod, dressed in a blue gym shirt that depicted a muscular guy lifting, paired with black shorts. The shirt hugged his form in a way that accentuated his physique rather than hiding it, and the casual attire only added to the relaxed charm he exuded. This was Thomas, the neighbor Jake was about to get to know.
"Hey there!" Thomas greeted, a friendly smile on his face. "You must be the new neighbor. I'm Thomas." He extended a hand, a firm handshake revealing the calluses of someone who might hit the gym often.
"Jake," he replied, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you, Thomas."
Thomas chuckled a bit, the friendly tone still lingering. "Likewise, Jake. So, what brings you to this side of the building?"
Jake shifted slightly, feeling a bit shy under Thomas's friendly gaze. "Just moved in with my boyfriend, Andrew, next door. Thought I'd say hi to the neighbors."
"Ah, the happy couple! Welcome to the neighborhood," Thomas said, rubbing his chin playfully. "You know, you're lucky to have me as a neighbor. I'm like the unofficial welcoming committee around here."
Jake grinned, finding Thomas's confidence oddly endearing. "Well, lucky us then. Thanks for the warm welcome."
Thomas leaned against the door frame, his demeanor casual but with a hint of self-assuredness. "No problem at all. Say, why don't you come in? I was just about to make some tea. A little neighborly chat won't hurt."
Jake hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist the friendly offer. "Sure, why not? Tea sounds good."
The apartment had a pleasant aroma of warmth and familiarity as Thomas led Jake in. It was a cozy space with an inviting feel, making Jake feel a bit more at ease. Thomas moved effortlessly to the small kitchenette, pulling out two cups and preparing tea.
"Here you go, Jake," Thomas said, handing over one of the steaming cups. "I've got a knack for tea, so enjoy."
"Thanks," Jake replied, taking a sip, the warmth of the tea comforting in his hands. "You've got a nice place here."
Thomas grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Yeah, it's my little bachelor pad. Not as neat as it could be, but it's home."
They exchanged pleasantries, Jake finding himself drawn to Thomas's charismatic demeanor. The conversation flowed easily, with Thomas expressing genuine interest in getting to know his new neighbor. At one point, Jake couldn't help but voice a thought that had been lingering in his mind.
"You know, Thomas, you're a pretty interesting guy," Jake said, a playful glint in his eyes. "And, well, quite attractive."
Thomas's response was a cocky smirk, as if he'd expected the compliment. "I get that a lot, and for good reason."
Jake blushed slightly, his admission out in the open. "I hope I'm not being too forward or anything. It's just, you seem like a cool guy."
Thomas chuckled, the cocky edge still present. "No worries, Jake. I can handle a compliment. And cool? I'll take it. We'll have to hang out more, get to know each other better. Maybe introduce me to that boyfriend of yours."
Jake nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through him. "Yeah, that sounds great. Andrew would love to meet you, I'm sure."
With that, the conversation continued, the two sharing stories and laughter, the bond between neighbors growing stronger. Little did Jake know that the more time he spent with Thomas, the deeper his fascination would become. Jake couldn't stop eye-ing his neighbor's dad bod, and especially his slightly protruding belly, which was cozy and inviting.
"What's up?" Thomas said, noticing Jake's attraction to his body and his extended silence.
"Say, Thomas," Jake spoke, his voice a little shaken and apprehensive. "I was wondering if you could… You know," He said, avoiding his neighbor's direct gaze. "Swallow me up?"
The revelation hung in the air, creating a moment of awkward tension between Jake and Thomas. Jake's request was so unexpected that even Thomas, with his confident demeanor, was momentarily taken aback.
"Swallow you up?" Thomas repeated, a bemused expression crossing his face.
Jake, realizing how unusual his request sounded, quickly began to backtrack. "Oh, uh, sorry. That was a weird thing to say. I just thought, you know, it's been a long day with all the moving, and I thought it might be a way to relax. Forget I said anything."
Thomas, recovering from his initial surprise, chuckled. "Hey, no need to apologize. That's definitely one way to unwind. But, you know, what about your boyfriend? Shouldn't he be the one you'd want to spend your evening with?"
Jake hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room as if searching for an excuse. "Andrew's at work. He won't be back for hours. I figured it might be a good time, you know?"
Thomas raised an eyebrow, the cocky smirk returning. "Well, well, looks like I've got some competition with your boyfriend's schedule. Alright, Jake, let's give it a try. Why not?"
Jake's eyes widened in surprise, the realization sinking in that Thomas was actually considering his bizarre request. He stammered, "Wait, really?"
Thomas chuckled again, approaching Jake with a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, really. I was beginning to think the tea in me could use some company." He teased.
As Thomas moved closer, Jake felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. Little did he know that this seemingly casual decision would set the stage for a series of events that would reshape the dynamics of their relationships in ways he couldn't have imagined.
Thomas's demeanor shifted, and a dominant aura enveloped him as he towered over Jake. With a wicked grin, he leaned in, his tongue emerging to sensually trace patterns across Jake's face, leaving a glossy trail of saliva in its wake.
Jake, caught in a mix of surprise and arousal, felt a shiver run down his spine. The dominant display was more than he had bargained for, but there was a certain allure to Thomas's confident and commanding presence.
As Thomas continued to lick, his teasing commentary echoed through the room. "You wanted to relax, right? Well, I'm here to make sure it's a memorable experience for you."
Jake, unable to resist the heat building within him, nodded in agreement. "Yes, I… I wanted something different."
Thomas, seemingly pleased with Jake's response, opened his mouth wide. The sight of those teeth, the expanse of his tongue, and the moist interior of his mouth created a mesmerizing spectacle. Jake, transfixed, felt a combination of excitement and anticipation.
With deliberate slowness, Thomas brought his open mouth closer to Jake's head, giving him a teasing pause. "Ready for the next part?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.
Jake, feeling the heat of the moment, nodded again. "Yeah, go for it."
Thomas didn't waste any time. He extended his tongue and, with a deliberate and sensual motion, began swallowing Jake's head. The sensation was unlike anything Jake had experienced before—being enveloped by warmth, the pressure increasing gradually as he slid further into Thomas's mouth.
As Jake descended into the darkness, he couldn't help but marvel at the intimacy of the act. The feeling of Thomas's teeth grazing against his skin, the wetness of his tongue, and the gentle pressure surrounding him created a heady mix of pleasure and surrender, and he couldn't be more grateful that he had been forward with his request.
Thomas relished the sensation of Jake's head nestled within the confines of his mouth. The warm, tight space engulfed Jake, and Thomas couldn't resist savoring the unique flavors that each part of his captive offered.
With a deliberate and practiced motion, Thomas began the process of swallowing Jake further. His hands, which had initially rested casually on Jake's torso, now came into play. Fingers pressed gently into Jake's sides, aiding the swallowing process and ensuring a smooth descent.
The fabric of Thomas's shirt stretched as Jake's form traveled lower, gradually disappearing into the voracious depths of Thomas's mouth. The sensation of Jake's descent was hot, tight, and surprisingly intimate. Thomas's throat worked rhythmically, each gulp accompanied by a low, satisfied hum.
As Jake's upper body passed the point of no return, Thomas reveled in the feel of his buttocks. The firm, plump curves were a tantalizing delight, and Thomas couldn't resist using his hands to savor the moment. Fingers kneaded into the soft flesh, ensuring every inch of Jake was embraced by the consuming journey.
Thomas's thick hands squeezed Jake's buttocks inside his mouth, relishing the feeling of the soft flesh yielding to his grasp. The act was both sensual and commanding, a testament to the control Thomas exerted over the devouring process.
As Thomas continued the deliberate swallowing, the bulge in his throat expanded, signaling Jake's gradual descent into the depths of his belly. The once-taut fabric of Thomas's shirt now strained and stretched, barely containing the increasing mass within. The sight was both enticing and provocative, the visible contours of Jake's form pressing against the fabric.
GULP!
With each successive gulp, Jake's head popped beneath the surface of Thomas's belly, causing a noticeable bulge from the outside. The fabric of Thomas's shirt clung desperately to the expanding mass within, the tight material pulled upward by the gravitational pull of Jake's journey into the man's digestive abyss.
The struggle of the fabric against the growing bulge was accentuated by the relentless swallowing. Thomas's throat worked with practiced precision, each gulp drawing Jake further into the churning depths of his belly. The once-cocky bachelor now seemed entirely consumed by the act, his concentration evident in the rhythmic motions of his throat.
The tight shirt, now strained beyond its limits, surrendered to the pressure. With a final, audible rip, the fabric gave way, exposing Thomas's expanding midsection. The bulge, no longer restrained by clothing, continued its ascent, offering a visual spectacle of Jake's gradual submersion into Thomas's digestive embrace.
Thomas's belly was much more pronounced with Jake entirely swallowed up, showcasing his curled up form beneath the bachelor's muscles. He rubbed his belly, moaning, as he let out a huge burp.
BuuuUuUuUuUuUrPPP!!
Thomas grinned, running a hand over his now exposed belly, the remnants of his torn shirt hanging from his waistband. "Well, shit, there goes my favorite gym shirt. And I thought it was tear-resistant. You owe me a new one."
He looked down at Jake's bulge inside him, the corners of his mouth curling up mischievously. "But, you know, it's worth it, just to have you all cozy in there, buddy."
Thomas reclined on his couch, feeling the subtle weight of Jake nestled within him. The torn shirt hung around his waist as a makeshift reminder of their unusual encounter. He ran a hand over his rounded belly, savoring the comforting fullness.
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As hours passed, Jake found a peculiar coziness within Thomas's belly. His words, though muffled by the fleshy confines, conveyed a sense of contentment. "So damn cozy in here," Jake's voice reverberated, the sounds dulled by the warm expanse of Thomas's belly.
The bachelor lounged, occasionally shifting in a way that cradled Jake further within him. Thomas chuckled, responding to the muffled remarks. "Yeah? Glad you're enjoying it, buddy. Just chill. We got time, and let me know when that boyfriend of yours is about to come."
Hours drifted lazily by as Thomas continued to chill on his couch, occasionally rubbing his belly as if patting a pet that lay within. Jake, within the comfortable confines of Thomas's belly, began to squirm subtly. His muffled sounds conveyed a sense of restlessness.
Jake's voice was muffled, the words barely decipherable but hinting at the desire to be released. Thomas, catching on, sat up with a casual grin. "Alright, time to set you free, little guy."
Thomas leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees, as the process of regurgitating Jake commenced. A low, guttural sound accompanied the motion, reminiscent of someone trying to force out an unexpected cough. As the first signs of Jake's reappearance became evident, a mixture of saliva and stomach acids accompanied him.
With a final, controlled heave, Jake emerged from Thomas's mouth. The dampened form of the once-swallowed man glistened, adorned with a sheen of Thomas's digestive fluids. Jake coughed and sputtered, the residue of the endosomatic adventure clinging to his form.
Thomas chuckled, leaning back as he wiped a stray droplet from the corner of his mouth. "There you go, Jake. Back to the land of the living, or at least out of my stomach."
Jake fumbled for a nearby napkin, wiping off the remnants of Thomas's digestive embrace from his face. He hesitated, glancing at Thomas with a mix of uncertainty and arousal.
"Fuck, that was hot as fuck," Jake admitted, his cheeks flushed. "Do you think, um… That maybe we could do this regularly?"
Thomas reclined on the couch, a cocky grin forming on his lips. "Regularly, huh? Well, who am I to say no? My gut's taken a liking to your round shape, and I figure I'd want to make use of this torn shirt again."
Jake, still catching his breath, grinned at Thomas. "Thanks, man. That was something else." With a casual wave, he headed back to his apartment, the door closing behind him.
In the privacy of his own place, Jake couldn't help but marvel at the wild experience. "Damn," he muttered, glancing at himself in the mirror. "Shower time before Andrew gets back."
Over the next few weeks, Jake found himself drawn to Thomas's door almost as if by an irresistible force. The frequency of his visits increased, and a peculiar routine developed—almost every time Andrew was out for work, Jake would find himself knocking on Thomas's door, eager for the sensation of being swallowed once more.
It became a clandestine affair, a secret passion that Jake couldn't resist indulging. The cozy afternoons spent nestled in Thomas's belly provided a unique escape, a refuge from the outside world. Thomas, despite his initial cockiness, seemed to enjoy the arrangement just as much.
Their encounters varied. Sometimes it was a quick, spontaneous venture, while on other occasions, Jake lingered longer, savoring the warmth and tightness of his endosoma retreat. As Thomas rubbed his belly in contentment, Jake relished the intimacy of the experience. The thrill of being swallowed, the muffled sounds of Thomas's surroundings, and the cozy darkness of his gut.
Each gulp, each audible swallow, became a part of their unspoken agreement. The torn gym shirt, now a remnant of many sessions, hung as a testament to their peculiar encounters. Thomas, ever the cocky host, reveled in the power dynamics of their arrangement. He would tease Jake with casual remarks, mocking him for how much he craved being inside him, how his gut's taking him from his boyfriend, and relishing the satisfaction of being the one in control. The muffled sounds of casual chatter, the gentle burps that followed, became routine.
One day, after weeks of their clandestine routine, Jake found himself stewing away in Thomas's gut. The familiar sensation of being enveloped in warmth and darkness was his routine escape from reality.
"Almost time for you to be out, bro," Thomas said, getting on his knees, preparing to regurgitate Jake, as they had done several times before. But, before the expected release, Jake squirmed in protest.
"Fuck, just take me," Jake said, his words muffled by the tight confinement of Thomas's gut, fully taken over by a surge of lust.
Thomas, taken aback, paused, looking at Jake with a mix of surprise and confusion. "You mean… like, for real? You want me to…?" he hesitated, gesturing toward his own belly.
Jake, caught in the moment of passion, nodded, confirming the unexpected twist in their usual routine. "Yeah, man. Digest me. Take me in. I want it," he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and abandon.
The unexpected turn left Thomas momentarily stunned, but the allure of Jake's plea proved to be too intoxicating to resist. With a smirk and a shake of his head, Thomas took a deep breath and said, "Glad you said that, a few more weeks and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from ending you whether you asked for it or not."
Thomas sat back, a casual air about him as he reclined, teasing Jake about the gravity of his words. "You know, bro, you just signed up for the no do-overs, no take-backs deal. You're in my gut now, and you're gonna stay there."
Jake, a mix of excitement and realization playing on his features, squirmed a bit, confirming his acceptance of the unspoken agreement. "Yeah, man, no turning back. I'm all in."
Thomas, with a mischievous grin, decided to take Jake's commitment to a new level. "Alright, bro, you signed up for the 'no more talking' package too." taking Jake's acceptance as a cue, tightened his gut, muffling Jake's words almost to the point of illegibility. With a smug smirk, Thomas leaned back, basking in the moment as he let out a colossal burp that reverberated through the air.
BuuUuUuUurP!
The sound echoed around the room, a declaration of the new reality they had both willingly entered. Thomas, still chuckling casually, patted his slightly bulging belly, sealing the unspoken contract between them. The muffled, indistinct sounds from within only served to emphasize the intimate connection they now shared.
Thomas glanced at the buzzing phone, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like someone's missing their boy, huh?" he teased, waving Jake's phone in the air. "Got a bunch of missed calls and texts. Your boyfriend's probably worried sick about where you are."
He chuckled, placing the phone on a nearby table. "Man, I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out where you really are. In this big, bulging gut of mine." Thomas patted his belly with a satisfied grin. "But we'll let him stew in curiosity a bit longer. Gotta savor the anticipation, you know?" Thomas said, as he headed to his bedroom.
He sprawled across his bed, one arm behind his head, the other idly rubbing his rounded belly. The bulge from Jake's presence was noticeable, a testament to the intimate arrangement inside. He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, as he felt Jake squirming within him.
"First night you're staying this long, bro," Thomas remarked, speaking into the empty room. "Better get used to it because, after tonight, you're not coming out. You're gonna be part of me for the last few nights of your life." He shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and let out a contented sigh. "Sweet dreams, man."
The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on Thomas as he woke up, his gut still pronounced from the previous night's indulgence. Stretching languidly, he sat up, feeling the weight of Jake nestled within him.
Yawning, Thomas got out of bed and ambled towards the bathroom. The tiled floor felt cool beneath his feet. Leaning over the sink, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. With a toothbrush in hand, he began scrubbing his teeth clean.
As he brushed his teeth, his gaze shifted to the protruding belly that pressed against the edge of the sink. Thomas grinned cockily, aware that Jake was experiencing his morning routine for the first time.
"Morning, Jake, you good in there?" Thomas teased, speaking as if Jake could hear him. "Can't quite make out what you'd be saying, but I thought the gesture was nice." He chuckled, imagining Jake's muffled protests from within the confines of his gut.
Finishing up in the bathroom, Thomas got ready for the day ahead, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
As Thomas went about his day, the vibrations of Jake's phone periodically echoed in the room, a persistent reminder of the outside world that seemed increasingly distant. Each buzz was a testament to Andrew's growing worry and curiosity.
Teasingly, Thomas leaned back and patted his belly, as if saying to Jake that he's here to stay. "You know, bro, I think your body's getting a little softer in there. I'm known to have a rough digestion."
From Jake's perspective, the world inside Thomas's gut was undergoing a slow transformation. His clothes, once distinguishable, were becoming indistinct as they melded with the acids. The sensation was peculiar and, at times, disorienting, as his skin slowly melted; It was pleasant, it felt cozier than any of the previous time he's been in here, but it was still disorienting.
The muffled sound of Andrew's persistent calls and messages on Jake's phone served as a distant background noise, a stark contrast to the cocoon of warmth and semi-darkness that enveloped Jake within Thomas's belly.
On the second day, Jake's form inside Thomas's gut underwent a notable transformation. The once distinct features of his body were now indiscernible, a result of the ongoing process of digestion. The clothes that clung to him had long since lost their original form, merging with the liquefying remnants of Jake's physique.
Thomas, perhaps subconsciously or out of growing curiosity, patted his belly, noting a subtle change. The solid tautness that characterized Jake's initial presence was giving way to a softer, more pliable feel. The acids worked persistently, melting away the boundaries of Jake's form. It wasn't an ethereal or surreal process; it was the gritty reality of digestion, the breaking down of flesh and bone into a churning mixture, but despite that it still felt good to Jake.
The sudden, impatient knocking on the door jolted Thomas from his casual reverie. He swung the door open, and there stood Andrew, a mix of worry and irritation etched across his face.
"Hey, sorry to bother you this early, but have you seen Jake?" Andrew asked, his concern evident in his tone. "He's been missing for two days, and I'm getting really worried."
Thomas, wearing a hoodie that conveniently hid the changes in his midsection, shook his head. "Nah, man, haven't seen him. Sorry." There was an apologetic note in his voice as he subtly adjusted the hoodie.
"Fuck," Andrew said, seeming distressed and unaware of Thomas's gut. "Sorry. Just… Let me know if you ever do, okay?" He said, as he continued to the other apartments to ask his other neighbors.
Thomas closed the door and laid back against it, he couldn't resist a teasing smirk. He lifted the hoodie, revealing the slightly softer, bulging gut beneath. "All it took is a lift of my hoodie to show him where ya went. Too bad he'll never figure it out." he remarked, the cocky edge still present in his voice, as Jake squirmed inside his acid-filled gut.
On the third day, Thomas decided to hit the gym, his usual routine slightly altered by the recent addition of Jake to his physique. The once-toned bachelor now sported more of a dad bod, and a slight beer belly had developed, a testament to Jake's presence in his gut.
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As he prepared for the workout, Thomas couldn't resist teasing Jake. "Well, bro, today's gonna be a tough one on you. Might speed up your digestion a bit," he quipped with a chuckle. "But hey, I figure I'll make the most of the gains from eating you. Gotta look more attractive when you're gone, right?" The casual banter flowed easily, as he got to exercise his muscles.
Thomas began his gym session with some heavy deadlifts, the weight clanging against the floor with each controlled drop. The impact reverberated through his core, the vibrations felt by Jake nestled within the confines of his bulging belly. With each lift, Thomas's abdominal muscles flexed and tightened, pressing against Jake in rhythmic pulses.
Moving on to bench presses, Thomas lay back on the bench, the pressure of the weights causing his gut to push outward. Jake, caught in the middle of this bodily symphony, experienced the compression and release as Thomas completed each repetition. Sweat glistened on Thomas's forehead, a testament to the exertion he was putting into the workout.
Transitioning to squats, Thomas's movements became more dynamic. As he descended into the squat position, Jake was subjected to the pressure between Thomas's thighs, a sensation that intensified with each rise. The fabric of Thomas's shorts stretched tightly over his expanding waistline, a visible reminder of Jake's presence within.
The stair climber machine was next on Thomas's agenda. With each step, the rhythmic impact resonated through his body, creating a gentle rocking motion for Jake. The pressure on Thomas's midsection increased, and Jake felt the subtle shifts as his surroundings changed with each step.
Finally, Thomas engaged in some core exercises, targeting his abs directly. Crunches and leg raises emphasized the region where Jake was nestled. The compression intensified with each repetition, the steady burn of the workout echoed within Thomas's bulging gut.
Throughout the entire routine, Thomas's banter continued. "You feeling the burn, bro?" he teased, fully aware of the unique experience Jake was undergoing within the confines of his ever-changing gut.
As the days progressed, Jake's once-solid form continued its relentless transformation within the acidic confines of Thomas's stomach. The digestive juices worked with ruthless efficiency, breaking down Jake's flesh and bones into a formless mass. The initial resistance of his physical structure gave way to the corrosive power of the stomach acids, reducing him to a mixture of liquid and dissolved remnants.
The process was slow and methodical. Jake's consciousness began to wane, his awareness slipping away in sync with the dissolution of his physical being. He became entangled in the chemical dance of digestion, losing touch with the boundaries of his form as the acids invaded every nook and cranny of his thick form.
The sensation was a paradoxical blend of pleasure and obliteration. Jake, in his reduced state, was suspended in a state of half-consciousness, afloat in the warm, corrosive embrace of Thomas's stomach. The once-distinct features of his body blurred into a formless, melted amalgamation, his essence merging with the strong digestive acids of Thomas.
As the dissolution progressed, Jake's thoughts became fragmented, his sense of self dissolving along with his body. The blissful haze of digestion enveloped him, a surreal journey into the abyss of being broken down and absorbed.
Thomas reclined on his couch, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips. His fingers drummed lazily on his bloated midsection, now transformed into a softer, beer-belly dad bod. The once-defined muscles were replaced by a plump layer, evidence of Jake's gradual assimilation into Thomas's physique.
"Look at this," Thomas mused, patting his slightly flattened stomach. "You're almost all mine, bro. I've been digesting you real good. Your essence is now part of what makes me, well, me. Bet you can't even comprehend that with how melted you are."
He let out a hearty belch, the sound reverberating through his sloshy midsection. Thomas's arrogance echoed in his words, a mix of crass amusement and self-satisfaction.
"You thought you could handle being in my gut regularly, but look at you now. Just a sloshy mess, melting away into nothingness. And here I am, getting beefier, looking better than ever," he continued, chuckling at the thought. "You're practically my personal enhancement, bro. A little seasoning to make me even more irresistible."
Thomas shifted, adjusting his posture to emphasize the changes in his physique. The casual arrogance in his voice painted a vivid picture of a man reveling in the results of his unconventional dietary choices.
"In a few more days, you'll be nothing but a memory, a part of my gains. Can't say it wasn't a good run for you, though. The best thing you did was willingly dive into my gut."
Thomas stepped out of his apartment and immediately encountered Andrew in the hallway, looking disheveled and anxious. Andrew's eyes widened at the noticeable change in Thomas's physique.
"Dude, have you seen Jake? I've been going out of my mind looking for him," Andrew pleaded, concern etched on his face. "You know what, don't fucking answer. I know you would've told me if you had already."
Thomas feigned innocence, scratching his head. "It's good, dude. Jake? Uhh, not sure, man. I mean, I've seen a lot of people around, you know? Can't keep track of everyone." He said, "Maybe he ghosted you or something. It happens. But hey," He gave Andrew a pat on the shoulder, "I'm here for ya if you need me, dude."
"Thanks, man." Andrew said insincerely, wanting nothing more than to know where his boyfriend went, but still appreciating the offer.
As they moved further away from each other, Thomas couldn't resist a sly grin, his hand casually rubbing his now beefier belly. "Damn, Jake. Not a word to your worried boyfriend? Never took you for the silent type." He teased as his stomach growled, knowing that Jake wasn't in a state to respond let alone comprehend, only existing for a few more days before he's fully digested down by the bigger man.
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ironskyfinder · 3 months
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Taking Dictation
The ad was simple, running in such a nondescript fashion that she almost missed it, down at the bottom of the screen - plain black text on a gray background, so bland it was almost painful.
Help Wanted: Skilled Secretary. Seeking an experienced secretary proficient in dictation and transcription. Must adhere to a strict dress code based on long-term function; excellent communication skills required. Submit a resume online or text ‘SUBMIT’ to 67678.
She thought about it for a moment. 
Everyone at Hamilton & Greene was amazing - except, of course, for Ms Hamilton and Mr Greene - and she liked the fact that it was a short ten minute drive from her apartment. 
But….
The pay was terrible, the transition to the new ‘paperless’ system was a nightmare, and Eric still stunk so bad it was hard to go past his cubicle, even after Linda had a private conference with him. Everyone was overstressed and overworked, and with the lease coming due in two months there’d still been no word on whether they were moving offices, again.
Maybe it was time for a change, or at least time to scare everyone into thinking they’d have to go without her. She glanced back, but the ad and the link were gone - so, she picked up her phone, and texted 
“Submit”
to 67678, just like the ad said, and in seconds a reply popped up - a link, and she tapped it.
The page was similarly subdued, but it had all the information she wanted. The posting was as thorough and painstakingly specific as the job was straightforward - a freelance IT professional and technical writer needed a secretary that could help him run both his businesses. The only item that wasn’t extensively clarified was the dress code, but if it meant she’d be expected to be professional in front of clients, she wasn’t worried. 
She opened her resume, and skimmed it to make sure that it was current before she uploaded it; the next page simply read, “Thank you for your application”, and she stared at the phone for a moment in disbelief that it’d been that easy. 
By Tuesday, she'd forgotten about it, not least because of the fight that Mr Greene and Ms Hamilton were in over the Friemann case, and hearing that it meant bonuses were delayed had her trying not to cry in her car on her lunch break
The phone dinged - a text, from 67678, letting her know that her resume had been accepted.
And, seconds later, a text from a number she didn’t recognize. For an interview: 10AM or 11AM Thursday, or 10AM Friday?
She took a deep breath and steadied her hands. 10 on Friday would be perfect! she texted back, and got ready to head back into the office. 
The interview, and everything leading up to it, was a blur in her mind.
She had taken Friday off, calling in sick late the night before, and had spent a good hour longer than usual getting ready so that she looked sharp for her interview. 
It was at his residence, about a half hour’s drive away; she was on her way with plenty of time, and as much as she’d hate the commute, it was a nice upscale neighborhood, and on the map it looked like it was next to a park that she could walk to on breaks. 
When she arrived, though, all she could focus on was him. She didn’t remember walking in, taking off her jacket, or even what his name was - she was lost in those eyes, and in the sound of his voice. 
He was busy, he explained, too busy to keep up without assistance. He was employed and was about to be over-employed twice over, and there was just no time - his hands were too full. His previous assistant had gotten pregnant, and was looking for a change. She had all the right qualifications to replace her, and to perform even better in her role; she was an expert in taking dictation.
The pay he was offering was almost double what she was making - and, she would be free to use one of the bedroom suites downstairs, whenever she wanted - and she was so excited that she almost forgot to ask about the uniform requirement. 
Almost. 
She’d asked, and he’d chuckled, and she felt herself get wet. He’d said something - she couldn’t remember exactly what - and she’d flushed further. She’d followed him downstairs to one of the bedrooms - to her bedroom - and showed her the corset and stockings that were carefully laid out. 
The mix of arousal and astonishment and disbelief must’ve shown on her face. She didn’t have time to protest or ask questions before he was talking again, and she couldn’t help but melt into his voice. 
He wasn’t just a technical writer, he explained. He also wrote erotica, very successfully, and it was crucial to his process to have inspiration on hand, and reference material available. He was sure that she’d be a perfect fit for her role, all she needed to do was embrace it…
Six weeks in, and she was adapting extremely well to her role.
She rolled lazily out of bed - out of his bed - and quietly made her way downstairs to her room, where she stripped out of yesterday’s uniform and got ready for a quick shower. After last week’s shopping trip, she had everything here that she needed. 
That was another reason she hadn’t been to her apartment since last month. Drying her hair, she emerged from her on-suite bathroom in a cloud of steam and immediately set to getting ready.  
By the time he was coming downstairs to the office, she was dressed - in black today, the set she’d decided she liked the most - she was already there, their coffees in hand, ready to start the day. 
Today he had meetings all through the morning - so she sat at her desk and started working through the notes from the previous day. He was midway through a support call when he hit a button and his desk raised up so he could stand. As soon as he was comfortably standing, she knelt on the cushion in front of him and unzipped his fly, pulling out his cock.
She loved his cock. She got lost in his eyes, and his voice made her melt, but after the first time she saw his cock - on her fifth day, the first time he’d fingered her for reference, while dictating to her. She’d been dizzy, between the sensations of him ruthlessly stimulating her g-spot and  trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his words, and didn’t notice he was jacking off until he grunted softly.
She’d looked back, then - into his eyes, first, those hypnotic pools of gray, and only when he glanced down had her haze followed and - it was perfect, long, thick, throbbing, a drop of precum dripping from the tip as he gently stroked it. She’d begged him to fuck her, that later that afternoon, and that was the first night she’d spent at the office, working late. 
 And the best part - or the worst part, or the hardest part - was that he did expect her to work, despite it all. The uniform, she found, not only kept her on display and accessible, but she felt sexier in it, and even the heels were comfortable too, somehow - but it didn’t make it any easier to be bent over his desk, cockwarming him while he rattled off erotica to her to transcribe. She had to make sure his notes and files got organized, even if she was asked to bounce on a dildo for reference. She had to balance his schedules and make sure his emails were dealt with, even if she chose to spend the morning on her knees trying to distract him while he was on a call. 
Four months in, and she was starting to put a few things together. 
Sir kept assigning her more hypnosis to review, and no matter how good it felt to spend hours on his desk, fulfilling her role, she was only barely keeping up with the notes, and the scheduling, and taking his dick-tation - she giggled, now, whenever she thought of it like that - was even more intense now that he’d started writing a lot of breeding stories. 
She also barely ever slept in her own bed anymore. He liked having her close - for inspiration, he said - but he also liked picking a hole to use to satisfy himself in the middle of the night, and filling her up with another load.
She wasn’t complaining, of course - she would do it even if she wasn’t getting paid - but her birth control pills had vanished from the cabinet, and she couldn’t help but notice that over the next few months the scheduled titles were starting to shift from breeding into pregnancy stories.
A year into her employment and six months into her pregnancy, deskpet was starting to worry. 
She was falling behind now, everything was taking more and more time. The hypnos had made deskpet much, much happier, and now she barely had thoughts at all besides the ones that Sir put in her brain for her to use - but it meant that typing was harder, and now when she was cockwarming or taking dick-tation - she giggled - all she wanted to do was go blank and fulfill her role of serving his cock. 
But he worked so hard, and he deserved help - more help than she could give. 
She thought about it for a while, and set about posting an ad. 
‘Help Wanted: Skilled Secretary’ the ad began….
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wausaupilot · 1 year
Text
Wausau committee approves short-term rental request
Furnished short-term rentals are popular with tourists as well as workers such as traveling nurses and interns as they offer a comfortable living environment without the barrier of a long-term lease requirement.
Damakant Jayshi The Wausau Economic Development Committee on Tuesday approved a request from bantr company to expand apartment leases to short-term rentals and hotel rooms in any combination that it determines. The committee voted unanimously to approve the second amendment to the bantr development agreement for the apartment complex at 1520 Elm St., Wausau. The proposal now heads to the Wausau…
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roxygen22 · 4 months
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Timothee gets overheated on the set of Dune and feels sick and reader who’s visiting him while they film in the desert takes care of him back at their rented apartment
C/W: hospital setting
Overheated
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Thanks to the flexibility of your job to work literally from anywhere, you were able to accompany Timothée to Jordan when he was filming Dune 2. One day, you were strolling through the market while he was busy on set when you got a call from his assistant.
"Hello?"
"[Y/N], it's Lizz. He's alright, but..."
Your heart stopped. That was never a good start to a conversation.
"...we had to take Timothée to the hospital. He and Z were shooting a scene in the stillsuits, and he started fumbling over his lines. He got lightheaded and nearly fainted. He's hooked up to IV fluids and resting now."
"I- I'll be there as quick as I can. Can you stay with him until I get there? H-he hates hospitals," you stumbled over yourself due to rising panic.
"Of course."
Lizz let the staff know to expect you so they wouldn't stop you at the door. They quickly escorted you back to his bed. You pulled back the curtain, but her description did not adequately prepare you for what you saw.
Timothée's normally voluminous curls were plastered to his head by sweat. He was pale and shivering from the cold saline they were pumping into his bloodstream and the ice packs on his body. He opened his eyes as you touched his cold, clammy forehead. You could feel the grit from the sand on his skin.
"Hey," he rasped.
"Oh, Timmy," was all you could muster before you choked on tears. You brought his hand to your cheek and kissed his palm. You felt his thumb wipe a tear across your cheekbone.
"I'm alright, babe." He tried to reassure you.
"No, you're not." Your voice raised slightly as narrowed your eyes at him. "You are dehydrated. You are pushing yourself too hard. I kept telling you that your body would make you slow down if you didn't do so voluntarily."
"I know. B-"
"No buts. I am going to ask Lizz to clear your schedule for the rest of the week."
"They can't film without me," he argued weakly.
"Exactly! If you don't take care of yourself, you won't be able to film. Just think how many jobs will be lost if they lose their star. They cannot do this movie without you."
Timothée's eyes dropped, and he sighed heavily. "You're right."
"Damn right, I'm right," you said with a wink and a smirk. "I love you, Timothée. I just don't want to see you hurt like this again."
You took him straight to your shared apartment (a short-term lease) once he was discharged. He was still weak and shaky, so you supported his weight from the car up the stairs to the door. He practically collapsed on the bed, his lanky legs dangling from the edge. You took his shoes off and guided his legs under the covers.
Timothée fell asleep quickly, overextended just from the short journey. In the brief moments when he was awake, you encouraged him to sip on electrolyte mix. A few hours later, he attempted to get up. He was so weak that it didn't take much energy on your part to push him back down by the shoulder.
"I don't think so, mister. The doctor said you needed to rest."
"[Y/N], I don't think getting up to go to a different room counts as physical activity," he retorted. It was good to see he had the energy to argue.
"Whatever you need, I can get it for you."
Timothée smirked and raised an eyebrow. "And what if I need to go pee?"
You spluttered, then laughed, knowing he got you on that one. "Well, I would say that is a good sign and one of the few things you can get up for."
"Thanks. I can maintain at least a shred of my dignity. Do you know how embarrassing it was to nearly fall out on set?"
You tucked a loose curl behind his ear. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Timmy. They see how hard you work. The cast and crew care about you. Your phone has been blowing up ever since we got home. Z already sent over some of your favorite snacks."
"That was nice of her."
"They all want you to take the time you need to recover. Completely," you emphasized, "and not a moment sooner."
He let his head fall back on the pillow. "You were right that I needed to slow down. I went straight from Bones and All to Wonka to Dune. I promise, even though I may grumble about it, I will be a good patient until I am cleared to go back."
"Good. Besides, it'll be nice to sleep in, cuddle, and make some progress on our watch list," you replied.
Timothée squeezed your hand. "I'm glad you're here; otherwise, the downtime would be unbearable."
You pouted your lip at the sweetness. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be. I love you."
"I love you, too. But, babe, I really do need to go pee." You both laughed as you helped him stand.
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dottybot · 1 year
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Lost housing and almost killed by our landlords
(Twice)
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C*sh app: $dottybot
V*nmo: @dottybot
@translesbo's Paypal: [email protected]
My partner, @translesbo, and I after signing a lease, were put through 2 big gas leaks during times we had planned on and had been close to sleeping in the apartment. The entire time the place made us sick and was hard to breathe in with a strong awful smell and remained unihabitable, causing us to be without a home since July 3rd, 2023 due to it.
We are a brown latine lesbian couple and both trans (her transfem and myself tme cafab) and autistic along with other disabilities, and have 2 esa cats.
The whole time during the lease, the landlord would excuse the lack of cleanliness and poor maintenance of the building with that it was an old building, deny things she once acknowledge, and imply that we were just lying or causing the problems and even giving us trouble with getting out of the lease. But before that it led up to 2 big gas leaks.
To not make the post appear too lengthy, the rest is under a cut.
So the 1st gas leak, we were earlier sure about taking and about to load up the cats with us to all attempt sleeping there for the night, only last minute getting the feeling like we should not bring them and then deciding not to. Once in the apartment, we were there, windows shut the entire time, for 3+ hours. I went from the regular struggle to breath, head pain, and sickly feel to escalating much more and becoming very out of it, struggling to stay awake to beginning to feel so out of control, and I never would have guess we were being poisoned due to the state it had already put me in. Kat only noticed by chance, the smell of gas by the oven, when she was just starting to feel more off, which we otherwise wouldn't have spotted with how strong the place smelled. We were so close to not noticing it at all.
Kat had been barely able to drive but got us to the nearby ER, and doctors confirmed the gas poisoning, and kept us there for 3 or 4 hours through the night until recovered enough, fortunately due to it being short term, we had no lasting damage on our bodies, just both felt very ill the next day, and myself barely able to move I remained sick from it for 3 days.
That morning, Kat had contacted the gas company as the doctors suggested, though they could not do anything as we followed the leases direction and were not notified during the event, so no one but the apartment maintenance would be able to even confirm it happening. However, the fire departmen came with a firetruck, since it was also recommended by the doctor to get the place checked out by them.
The landlord later called, after us updating her of current apartment issues promptly as per lease requirements, and this call she went too far. She kept up with her same tactics but worse. She tried implying either we made up that there was a leak or we intentionally gave ourselves gas poisoning (like we were still very sick from the previous night) and was then many times claiming everything is fine with the maintenance man the landlord insists "he knows what he's doing" and "no one has ever had a problem with him", because we had included our concerns with him-- this guy had tried making kat sound like she overreacted and didn't know anything, kept claiming that "Gas does Not spread" so we should have been fine, not having any effects of poisoning, along with other contrary claims.
Anyways, the landlord lady was very clearly implying she thinks we are liars about there even being a gas leak, implying we didnt contact the gas and fire department which she claimed to "work closely with so they wouldn't lie, because she contacted the places and no one had documentation since maintenance was the only one to witness, it was her word against ours. This is when we realize due to the lease instructions to forgo contact to a third party professional to fix gas leaks, we would not be able to have paper documentation against her to prove it. She even "randomly" asked the name of our previous apartment place, and mentioned threatening like "didnt you have a gas leak there too?" As even more reason to accuse us, and saying she may have to contact our previous apartment place and saying how odd she thinks it was to have another leak, though this one worse,
On the 3rd day, after the 1st leak I was still feeling ill only starting to recover, the 2nd leak happened. this time we had to bring our cats with us, since we had no where else to stay with our previous lease over, and the apartment still uninhabitable and made us both more sickly, and still feared being there.
Earlier in that day, we were reassured multiple times that it was fixed and that "the stove SHOULD be putting out a gas smell for the next hour or 2", and that it means it's "Fixed, working" the maintenance man kept insisting, even the landlord lady was there strongly confirming multiple times it was true because "he Knows what he is doing" again, even confirming therepair was checked later in the day to make sure there was no leak and that it was safe.
We were afraid to go back after the 1st leak after how badly to us at least it seemed to be pouring out earlier in the day and their claim that it was supposed to be that way, but it was the only option we had.
We were unsure if we were just overreacting for a while and imagining the smell, it was several hours laters with all windows having been left open, though eventually calling our gas company this time to get proper documentation and a professional, since the smell had not diminished.
Kat was told by the gas man that gas was shooting out, and he's seen fires breakout from similar.. so we had to get Out.
Which led to us being homeless and having to sleep in the car and soon after, we were fortunately able to stay at Kat's parents house though they do not have space for us, keeping us and our cats in her nephew's small cramped room, with Kat sleeping on a broken bed that is messing with her scoliosis, and me havung to sleep on the floor for over a month now really taking a toll on me. And our cats have been under constant stress, making them require more care and expense.
This whole thing has made me lose my job, has been traumatic for us both, and lose easily over $2,500 into cost of the apartment and our repairs alone, and $250 on an attourney that did not try to help much but was able to get us out of the lease. On top of kat recently being wrongfully stopped by a cop for a made up reason, giving her a $135 ticket, along with having to take a 5 week un paid leave of absence to be able to help deal with our situation. And we can no longer put off car repairs, we have put off this whole year since it sputters most of the time instead of starting now along with other concerning issues.
We have currently been trying to find better jobs and a place to live, though due to the unstable living situation and and loss of income it has been more difficult to find a place.
So, any mutua*aid if you have the means and any reblogs would really help and be appreciated a ton
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jupitervega · 1 year
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fleein the south part II
hi, i'm ri & i'm an autistic nonbinary trans guy-lite-ish person. 4 years ago i moved out to denver from mississippi (where i was born & raised) & immediately had a massive improvement in my quality of life. i was able to access medical & psychiatric care, my career stabilized, people were addressin me with correct terms for the most part, & i was startin to feel like life had finally begun
unfortunately when the lease ran out on our house end of summer last year my roommates decided not to renew, & then the people who were gonna be my new roommates backed out last minute. in a panic i looked for other options but with time runnin short & top surgery approachin i decided to recover at a friend's house & move back to mississippi once my surgeon cleared me to travel cross country so i could regroup somewhere i figured would be less expensive & at least somewhat familiar
that, friends, was a very costly & painful mistake! every single problem that made me wanna move away in the first place has only exacerbated!
i'm comin up on 8 months post top surgery, i have a beard, & i'm still gettin called ma'am/she/her. trump flags & signs still adorn many yards/porches here. hatred & bigotry run rampant in local politics. the other day i didn't even enter one of the convenience stores in the town where i live when i stopped by because they had posted a very thinly veiled racist sign on the door
when i arrived back here i was not even a full month outta surgery & i had a minor complication, so i went to the emergency room cause what else was i sposed to do? applied for charity as i had around $100 to my name at that point, which i THINK? got approved? also applied for mississippi medicaid the same day, which got denied almost outright as i have no children. so i've been uninsured since november & rationin the 3 month supply of my psych/migraine meds i received before leavin colorado for goin on 7 months. never mind bein able to access hrt!
job prospects here are Not Great! i've had to collect unemployment for a while as i cannot for the life of me find a full time job with a livin wage. otherwise i literally cannot make ends meet as the jobs i've held so far down here are payin average 50% or less of what i was makin in denver. even with the part time gigs i've had i have yet to crack 30hr/wk on any kind of regular basis
housin is an absolute shitshow. my lease is up 1 july (got a month extension) & i've been searchin everywhere for an affordable place of my own or at least a good roommate. the more affordable studio/1bd apartments go for around $700 & up, but most have income requirements of 2.5-3x the monthly rent which, considerin previous point abt wages, is near impossible. roommate listins are available but the majority are questionable at best & seekin a live-in bangmaid at worst
with all these considerations i spent the past few weeks feelin worse & worse lookin for somewhere close to the job i currently have. the leases are like 6mo-1y so i was picturin another year down here & how i was gonna survive, let alone thrive. my thoughts got darker & darker. i'd wake up in the mornin & be sad/disappointed i'd survived the night
this is no way to live
i snapped a few days ago. said to myself "if i'm destined to struggle wherever i go, i'd rather do it somewhere i actually Wanted to be in the first place" & started applyin for housin in denver. waitin to hear back from my first option & have secured a backup with a friend with a spare room for 6mo in case that falls through
right now i need help gettin the hell out! i've got first month's rent already put back, i can continue to collect unemployment until i land a good job in denver, & i'm already reachin out to find somewhere to work. i just don't have anywhere to go for another month or two to save the money i'll need to travel almost 1200mi (~1900km) back to colorado. i'll need at least $500 to make gas/food happen durin the time it will take me to get there, & i need it by the first of july (38 days from day of postin)
please help me escape!!!
ca: $jupitervega
vmo: jupitervega
ppal
please please please donate whatever you're able! pls boost!
thank u so much for readin, pls have an item from my emergency happy photo folder for yr enjoyment
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trickphotography2 · 1 year
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D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 9
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader
Word count: 5.9k
Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.
18+, minors DNI
Chapter 8 | Master List | Ao3
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Chapter 9
Working on base was a whole different beast. While you still dealt with cocky pilots and big personalities, the transitory nature of working with the military meant no one was entrenched in their positions. Orders came through every few years, so squadrons were rebuilt repeatedly. The GS folks tended to stay in place, but with everyone spread across the different squadrons, a majority of the communication was held over Teams with weekly in-person meetings. Only four of your coworkers were with you in the Bounty Hunter’s hanger - and it was nice that you weren’t the only woman on the team.
The higher-ups didn’t stand for any disrespect to the GS employees. Once, in a standing-room-only meeting, an Admiral had forced a Petty Officer out of his seat for you. You were never called ‘sweetheart’ or asked to get coffee for the meeting. Even though you asked them to call you by your first name, you were often addressed as Ma’am or by your last name. 
It helped that you and Jake had hosted a misfit's Christmas party. 
Your parents had a tradition of inviting any Airmen that didn’t have someone to spend the holidays with to their house. It had started with them as a young married couple away from their families for the first time, and later as Dad climbed the ranks and became an NCO, he wanted to take care of his guys. So when they visited for Christmas and Jake gave them a flight line tour, it just kind of happened. The get-together ballooned from the four of you and Javy to about 30 people at Jake’s place - pilots, WSOs, and a few of your coworkers. There were single folks and married couples. When one of Javy’s coworkers showed up with their newborn, Mom was more than happy to play grandma and ensure the new parents had time to eat and relax. Everyone had contributed a dish, and beer pong and cornhole games were set up in the backyard. You and Javy ruled the beer pong table for four rounds before finally losing to Jake and a WSO called Boondock. 
For all his worry about meeting your parents, Jake had done phenomenally. Mom surprised him with a homemade stocking that matched yours, and he’d had to clear his throat a few times before thanking her. Dad gifted him an Air Force t-shirt and laughed when Jake thanked him for the rag to clean his truck tires. 
December faded into January, and Jake drunkenly declared that he was going to marry you when you kissed in the new year. 
Your first big fight was on January 3rd when your apartment’s 60-day lease renewal notice appeared on your front door. Jake wanted you to end your lease and move in. You wanted to keep your place - moving in 10 months into a relationship wasn’t part of the agreement, and you liked having your own space. He demanded to know what about your relationship made you question moving in. You tried to tell him that it wasn’t about not feeling stable in your relationship. It was about your comfort. He snapped that he wasn’t your ex trying to trap you. When he stormed out of the apartment, you refused to apologize. The stalemate went on for three days until you sent him a picture of your new short-term lease that would end in September - four months after your anniversary. Rent would be more expensive, but it was at least a compromise. 
Your second fight was about communication when he showed up at your apartment the next day. 
Happy Anniversary, darlin’. I wish I was with you, but we’ll celebrate when I get home. Love you so much - Jake
The flowers - the same arrangement that he’d bought you the first time he’d asked you out - had shown up on your desk first thing in the morning, and you’d endured some gentle teasing by the aviators, mechanics, and coworkers. And while you’d looked forward to celebrating one year with your boyfriend, unfortunately, he was deployed across the state with Javy. 
What he didn’t know was that you planned on surprising him. 
The late afternoon flight to Mirimar only took an hour. You left straight from the office, your weekend bag waiting in the trunk. You had a meeting with your old company to discuss a delayed delivery, and it had been so satisfying to see your old coworkers squirm when you asked them to explain the delay of services and the implementation of the penalties that had previously been negotiated. In preparation for the meeting, you’d decided to dress up a bit more than usual, anticipating getting to change before heading to the airport - traveling in a pencil skirt and button-down wasn’t the most comfortable. But the meeting had run long, and you’d had to speed to the airport only to find out your flight was delayed. And delayed again.  
It was almost 6:00 PM when you landed, and you’d missed Jake’s after-work call. Quickly, you texted him that you were stuck at the office and would call him back. He made your life easy by saying he would be at the bar but would make sure to step out to answer. He’d already told you about the regular spot the pilots congregated at, so you had a good idea of where you could find him. If all else failed, you could text Javy. 
Thankfully you were able to pick up your rental car relatively quickly. Since you were planning to spend time by the beach, you'd decided to splurge on a convertible. They gave you a newer Mustang, and you quickly snapped a picture to send to your dad.
The Hard Deck was a cute beachside bar and popular if the parking lot was anything to go by, especially for a Wednesday. After fixing your hair and freshening your lipstick, you hesitated a moment before undoing an extra button on your blouse. Leaning against the back of the car, you quickly swapped out your flats for a pair of stilettos that Jake loved, ignoring the looks of a few other patrons heading inside. With a final check to make sure your shirt was tucked in and your belt was straight, you headed inside.
80s music greeted you as you pushed open the door. Glancing up, you saw beer steins and replica planes hung on the ceiling and patches decorating the walls. Skirting the edge of the room, you kept your eyes peeled for your boyfriend.
After a week and a half, he was a sight for sore eyes, backlit by the setting sun as he lifted a beer bottle to his lips and watched a game of pool, checking his phone. Laughing to yourself, you texted him.
Leaving in five minutes. I’ll call you as soon as I’m off base.
He set his beer down and smiled at his phone. A minute later, yours vibrated in your hand.
Good thing we didn’t have plans tonight. Don’t forget to bring your flowers home.
Have I told you how much I love them? You texted back while making your way to the bar. 
I hope so. Blew my entire flower budget on this cute GS contract admin. Smiling, you leaned against the bar and waited to order, eyes trained on Jake, who kept glancing at his phone. 
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked. 
“Hi - can I get a whiskey and Coke and whatever that gentleman over there is drinking?” She turned to look at where you were pointing. Her smile was slightly more sarcastic when she turned back. 
“I wouldn’t waste your time, sweetie.” 
“Thanks for the advice, but I’ll take my chances. Do you have drink runners?”
“Might as well save yourself the money,” the man beside you said. “Hangman’s not worth the trouble.” You glanced at him - he wore a flight suit, which seemed to be a pretty standard uniform at The Hard Deck. 
“Is that so?” you replied, reading his name patch. Yale. As the bartender got the drinks, you turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Yup. So how about we take those drinks and find a place to get to know one another.” His eyes flitted to your cleavage. When his gaze met yours again, you raised an eyebrow. You’d forgotten how cocky pilots were off base, surrounded by civilians. Anytime you were around them at home, the ones you interacted with either knew you from work or saw you with Jake and treated you with respect. The thought of putting him in his place made the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk. 
“How do you feel about a friendly bet?” Yale faced you, arm draped across the bar so his fingers nearly brushed yours. 
“What’s the bet?” 
“Hangman - that’s what you called him? - leaves with me tonight.” 
“And the terms?”
“If I’m right, you pay for our first round. But if you’re right, I'll pick up your tab for the night.” 
“That’s more than two drinks - I’ve already paid for rounds for my friends.” You shrugged. “You pick up my tab and have a drink with me.” 
“One that I would be paying for, presumably, since I’d pick up your tab?”
“A bet’s a bet.” 
You paused, tapping your finger against your lower lip as though debating your response. “Two-for-one terms don’t work for me. If you want me to pick up your tab and have a drink with you, you’ll have to pay for all my drinks for the night. Plus his.” 
“Done.” When he extended his hand, you reached for it but paused before shaking. 
“You have to bring him the beer.” When he shrugged, you shook his hand, forcing yourself not to laugh. When he reached for the bottle in front of you, you stopped him. “Hang on. This too.” Grabbing a clean napkin and a pen from the bar, you quickly scribbled a note before folding the napkin in half and handing it to Yale. 
“Thanks for the beers,” he smirked. 
“We’ll see.” With a chuckle and wink, he walked back towards the pool table. You tracked him, sipping your cocktail before glancing over in time to see Javy spot you. His mouth opened in surprise, and you quickly pressed a finger to your lips, motioning him to be quiet. Yale handed Jake the beer just as Javy reached his side. He scowled at the napkin as Yale said something. Javy glanced over Jake’s shoulder and grinned at you when he unfolded it. 
Jake said something to Yale before looking at the bar, gaze running over the other patrons. Finally, his green eyes landed on you. His frown faded, and your favorite crooked grin appeared. Turning to Yale, he nodded before lifting the beer to his mouth and taking a pull as he started towards you. Unerringly, his eyes found you as he navigated the crowd.
And then he was there, grinning down at you. “Working late, huh?”
“Something like that,” you laughed. Jake lifted the napkin and cocked an eyebrow.
“You’re stealing my moves, darlin’. Now, why exactly am I playing it cool?” 
“Because I’m about to take care of our tab for the night.” Stepping closer, you placed one hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding under your palm, and arched an eyebrow. “I bet Yale that I could take Hangman home tonight.” Jake’s hand rested on your hip as he stepped closer, looming over you. 
“And what’d he bet?”
“That I couldn’t, and I’d have a drink with him and pick up his tab.” His eyes left yours to dart over to where Yale and Javy stood. Both men watched your exchange, Javy grinning around his beer while Yale looked disappointed. 
“Fuck the bet. I’ve got your drinks for the night,” he growled. His lips crashed into yours, hand sliding from your hip to your lower back and hauling you closer. He took advantage of your startled gasp and slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slid up his chest to cup his jaw, thumb rasping against his stubble. When you finally broke apart, you lightly swept your thumb over his lower lip to wipe away your lipstick. “What are you doing here?” Jake asked softly.  
“Well,” you smiled, “it’s important to hold negotiations face-to-face whenever possible.”
“That right?”
“Yup. So are you ready to discuss the contract, Lieutenant?” Placing his beer beside your glass, he unzipped one of his pockets and pulled out his wallet. Instead of pulling out his credit card, he handed you a folded piece of paper. Tears sprang to your eyes when you opened it. 
It was your original contract.
“Ready whenever you are. Got a whole list of updates that I want.” You swayed closer and tilted your head back. Jake’s kiss was softer this time. “Love you, darlin’.”
“Love you too, babe.” 
“Wanna get out of here?” 
“You don’t want to introduce me to your friends?” 
“Not if they’re gonna hit on you,” he scoffed. You laughed, refolding the paper and handing it back. He slipped it into his wallet.
“I want to say hi to Javy and finish my drink. Then we can go back to my hotel.” Grabbing your glass, you pushed off the bar and walked away. Jake dragged his eyes down your body, lingering on your legs, before following.
Javy met your halfway and pulled you in for a hug. “Couldn’t even go two weeks without his ugly mug. What are you gonna do when he’s on a longer deployment?”
“Well, first, let’s not put that into the universe,” you laughed. “And second, it’s only because it’s a special occasion.”
“Right. Not sure how you put up with him for a year.”
“You’ve put up with him longer than I have.” 
“Alright, alright,” Jake huffed, tossing his arm across your shoulders and tugging you close. 
“I checked on your place yesterday,” you told Javy. “Everything’s good - I brought in a bit of mail that didn’t get stopped.” 
“You’re the best. How long are you here for?”
“I fly out Sunday morning. I have to work from the hotel tomorrow, but other than that I’m - ”
“Plenty of time to talk later, then,” Jake said, gently tugging you away. “Say bye to Coyote.” 
“Pool later?” you asked, pointing at Javy, who chuckled and nodded as you were pulled towards the back door. As you passed Yale, Jake lifted his hand from your shoulder and flipped him off. You couldn’t help but laugh as you stepped onto the deck. He led you to the stairs and paused long enough for you to kick off your heels before walking towards the line of Adirondack chairs facing the ocean. 
“C’mere,” he said as soon as he settled in one of the chairs, patting his thigh. You stood between his knees and dropped your shoes, placing your drink on the chair arm beside his beer. 
“God,” you sighed, curling your toes in the sand, “it’s been forever since I’ve been to the beach.” 
“Can’t believe you’re here,” Jake said, sitting up and wrapping his hands around your thighs, pushing the material further up your legs. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he guided you closer. “I love and hate this skirt.” 
“Oh?”
“You look sexy as hell in it, but it’s too tight to let me touch you the way I want.” 
“That’s probably a good thing since we’re in public and surrounded by your coworkers.” Leaning down, you rested one hand on his shoulder and ran your fingers through his hair. “Missed you, Seresin. Happy anniversary.” 
“Happy anniversary,” he echoed, tugging you down to straddle his knee. Your skirt was tight across your legs and ass, and the wood was uncomfortable on your knees, but it didn’t matter when Jake’s lips pressed against yours, licking into your mouth as his fingers dug into your waist. When the wind blew your hair into your faces, you laughed against his mouth. He chased your lips when you pulled away and groaned when you stood up. Turning, you settled on the chair between his legs and leaned back against his chest, your bare feet brushing against his boots. 
“So, how was work today, Hangman?” you asked. The setting sun reflected off the ocean as you entwined your fingers together and rested them on your stomach. 
“Good. Spent the day in the air working the training course.” 
“For the mission you can’t tell me about, even though I have a top-secret clearance.”
"Yup.” His nose brushed your throat as you took a sip of your drink.  
“Is it really dangerous?” His hesitation was the only answer you needed.
“They brought in the best. Which for some reason includes those idiots in there,” he said, squeezing your hand. You knew he was trying to lighten the mood. 
“Well, not everyone’s a Seresin,” you shrugged. 
“You could be.” You sputtered, a bit of your drink spilling onto your chest. Chuckling, Jake lifted his hand to wipe it from your breasts and licked his fingers clean. Setting your nearly empty glass on the chair arm, you turned to face him. “What?” he shrugged.
“Is that your opening position in the negotiations? Marriage?”
“It’s on the list.” 
“You have a list?” Jake grinned, poking his tongue in his cheek as he raised an eyebrow.
“Are you tellin’ me that Ms. ‘I Negotiate for a Living’ doesn’t have a list of things ready for our contract negotiations?” 
“I have a mental list. That’s what we’re talking about, right?” 
“Sure, darlin’.” 
“Jake, you don’t have an actual list, do you?”
Jake did have a list. Saved on his phone. 
After giving Javy the keys to their rental car and stopping by the base dorms so he could grab enough clothes for the morning, you went to the hotel. He was reluctant to let you drive, but you reminded him that he wasn’t on the rental agreement and told him to enjoy being a passenger princess. The only time he could drive was when you had to go on base - even though you had your CAC card, you didn’t want to tempt fate with your civilian employee ID being rejected for going onto the wrong installation. 
“I want this as our tradition,” you said from your spot on the corner of the king-sized bed. Jake set his burger on the hotel desk and wiped at his mouth, cocking an eyebrow as you ate another fry. He’d tied the top half of his flight suit around his waist, and his black t-shirt clung to his chest and arms. 
“What? A hotel room?”
“No. I want us to get McDonald's for dinner.” He looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“You want fast food. Not a nice dinner, not a trip - McDonald’s.” 
“This is what we had the first night we were together.”
“We can do this until we get married. Then we’re gonna have a nicer tradition.”
“According to you, we’ll only get to do this once more, then. Twice if we do a long engagement.”
“It’s not going to be a long engagement.” You rolled your eyes. Jake wanted to get married this year, but you’d gotten him to agree to get engaged in exchange for keeping his rental house for another two years before looking to buy your own home. He wasn’t sure when orders would come down for him to move since he’d been with the Vigilantes for two years already. He was pretty confident he could move to another squadron on Lemoore when the time came, but he was hesitant to purchase anything when you might have to move shortly after. 
“I want to do this for our dating anniversary. We’ll discuss the wedding anniversary when we get to that point.”
“So you want two anniversaries?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Well, future Mrs. Seresin, since you want one that’s cheap, I guess I’m fine with it.” 
“Sentimental, not cheap,” you corrected. Your face flushed when he stood and walked closer, plucking the fry container from your hands and placing it on the desk. Leaning over you, he tilted your head back. 
“Sentimental it is, Mrs. Seresin.” You flushed under his heated gaze. Jake brushed his lips against your forehead and cheeks as you untied the sleeves of his flight suit and pushed it down his legs. “Love you, darlin’.” 
“Love you, too.” Planting one hand on the bed, he slowly lowered you onto the mattress while kicking off his suit. He quickly stripped off his shirt before licking into your mouth. His dog tags rested in the hollow of your throat, and you wrapped your hand around them, using them to pull him closer. 
“Wearin’ too many clothes,” he mumbled while working on the buttons of your blouse. Jake grumbled when you pushed against his shoulders until he stood up. 
“Sit against the headboard.” He took the initiative to strip off his boxers, his cock flushed and resting on his stomach. Smiling coyly, you finished undoing your buttons and slid the shirt from your shoulders. Your belt and bra hit the floor, and you shimmied off your skirt and panties. 
“Put the heels back on,” he said, voice rough with lust. “And get over here.” You did as you were told and crawled across the bed towards him, smiling as Jake’s fingers dug into your waist when you straddled him. “Fuckin’ missed you, darlin’.”
“Is that so, Lieutenant Seresin?” You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed the corner of his mouth. When he turned to chase your lips, you pulled away. Dragging your hand down his chest, you lifted his dog tags and traced his name. “You’re really ready to share your last name again?” 
“I’d take you to the courthouse today if you’d let me.” 
“I guess Javy can’t be too disappointed in you, since you waited longer than three months this time.”
“Darlin’, don’t talk about other men when you’re naked in my bed.” Smirking, you slid the ball chain over his head. His heated gaze watched as you put on the dog tags, the metal warmed from his skin, falling between your breasts.    
“Technically, this is my bed since I rented the room.” 
“Pretty sure the vows go ‘what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours’.” 
“You’re jumping a few steps,” you scolded. “No agreements are binding until we sign the papers and you actually ask me to marry you, so you better behave, Hangman, or we’ll terminate the contract.”
“I’d like to see you try,” he chuckled, running his fingers along your core and smirking to find you already wet. Easing his middle and ring fingers into you, he pulled you down to whisper against your mouth, “Did you miss me?” At your hummed response, he nipped your lower lip. “Words, darlin’.” 
“Yes.” 
“Couldn’t wait for me to come home and take care of you the way you like, could you?” 
“No.” He added a third finger, holding tightly to your hip when you moaned at the stretch. Jake crooked his fingers, using his thumb to circle your clit as you panted against his neck. When you’d adjusted to his thick fingers, you ran your tongue down his throat and nipped his shoulder before closing your lips around the hurt, flattening your tongue against it. He groaned when you dug your nails into his back. Calloused fingers trailed up your spine and wrapped around your hair, drawing you away.
“Careful, darlin’. Can’t have you damaging government property, now.” Your sarcastic retort was lost in a loud ah when he thrust his fingers hard while tugging your hair. Hips moving of their own accord, you leaned back to brace your hands on his thighs as you rode his fingers. He grinned and pulled your breast into his mouth, sucking hard. His tongue flicked over your nipple before his teeth dragged along your skin and tugged. Your fingers carded through his hair, holding him against you as you shuddered and came with a gasp. 
Jake fucked you through your orgasm and slowly withdrew his fingers, the wet sound mingling with your heavy breaths, bringing them to your mouth. You opened for him and licked them clean, gagging slightly when he inched them toward the back of your throat, his Academy ring pressed against your stretched lips. “One. Now hold onto the headboard, baby.” Your stomach clenched when he wrapped his hand around your waist and encouraged you onto your knees, thighs shaking with the effort of holding yourself up. Grinning, he shifted down the mattress, his shoulders forcing your legs wider until your knees were beside his head. He’d wanted you to ride his face for a while, but you’d always hesitated. “Please, darlin’,” he said softly, arms wrapping around the back of your thighs. 
“You’re sure?”
“So fuckin’ sure.” Biting your lower lip, you nodded. He grinned while pulling you closer, brushing lips to your inner thighs. When you hovered over him, he pulled you down onto his mouth, placing soft kisses against your core. The first pass of his tongue was light and teasing, trying to get you comfortable. His nose bumped your clit, and you inhaled sharply, shying away from his touch. The motion dragged your slit across Jake’s mouth, and he groaned. The vibration made you moan, and your hips rocked. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged before dipping his tongue into you and sucking kisses up to your clit to run his tongue around it. Your knees slid along the sheets as your thighs struggled to hold you up. 
Your grip on the headboard tightened, and you lowered your head, forcing your eyes open. Jake’s eyes were closed, clearly savoring the moment. Turning, you groaned at the sight of his cock, pink and dripping against his stomach, your black stilettos a stark contrast against his sunkissed skin. Reaching back, you dragged your finger through the precum pooling on his skin. His muscles jumped under your touch, and his pupils were blown wide when you turned to face him, sucking on your finger. “I want you in my mouth later.” Jake moaned against your pussy, and you yelped when he dragged you down to his mouth. All softness was gone as he attacked you, using every trick he knew to get you off. When you started to grind against him, he flattened his tongue and let you use him. 
Collapsing backward onto the bed, you tried to catch your breath. Jake chuckled, dragging his knuckle along the leg still draped over his chest. When you lifted your head to meet his gaze, he winked, chin glistening with your wetness. “Two. We’re doin’ that again, darlin’.” Rolling your eyes, you moved your leg, lightly tapping his temple with the toe of your stiletto. His gaze followed you as you moved to lie on your stomach, cheek resting on his thigh and feet in the air, ankles crossed. 
“That may be an anniversary treat.”
“Nope. Regular rotation.” Shaking your head, you lifted your hand to run your finger along the thick vein on his cock. “Put it in the contract.”
“Nope.”
“C’mon. You enjoyed it.”
“Not saying I didn’t,” you agreed, wrapping your hand around him and squeezing lightly. He grunted, eyes glued to yours as you shifted onto your elbow. “We’re not putting sex in the contract.” When he opened his mouth to reply, you dragged your fist up his length, stopping just under his flared head. “You were saying?” you teased. 
“I - ” You closed your mouth over his tip, tongue darting into his slit. “Fuck.” You hummed, twirling your tongue around his head before swallowing him down, fist covering what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Tilting your head, you looked up at him so he could see the bulge of his dick in your cheek. His hips lifted, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, tears springing to your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you swallowed around him. 
Jake’s moans were so pretty.
With each pass, you took more of him, his hand on your head encouraging you. “So good, baby. Love your mouth. Feel so good,” he babbled. Your hand slipped between his legs to cup his balls, tugging gently. Your whined name and his hand pressing you down was the only warning he gave before his salty taste flooded your mouth. After swallowing and kitten licking his cock clean, you rolled onto your back and pulled off your heels, tossing them onto the floor. “Aw, darlin’, I wanted to fuck you with those on,” Jake whined. 
“We’ve got all weekend,” you sighed. 
You worked from the hotel on Thursday, periodically interrupted by Jake sending pictures. He’d clearly taken one while flying, and you reminded him exactly how much his plane cost and told him that he needed to be more careful. Later that night, he demonstrated just how careful and detail-oriented he was as he made you come four times. 
The next morning, you presented him with the updated contract for his signature. After he signed, he’d written one more clause under your signatures. You reminded him that adding anything after signing wasn’t binding. He initialed both copies and made sure to show you just how little he cared when your cheek was pressed against the cold shower tiles as he fucked you from behind before leaving for work. 
When you’d mentioned wanting to visit the USS Midway on your day off and offered to wait for him, Jake just shook his head and told you to enjoy - he saw enough of carriers during his deployments. So you spent the morning exploring the ship and surrounding statues, and sending him and your parents pictures. After grabbing a late lunch, you browsed the art galleries and stores in Seaport Village before heading back to the hotel for a nap. 
On Saturday, you let Jake and Javy sleep in before dragging them to the zoo. As the day wore on, you saw the tension ease from their shoulders. By the time you left and they agreed to take advantage of the convertible to cruise down to the beach, both were singing along to Taylor Swift with you.
That night at The Hard Deck, you and Jake won a game of pool against Javy and another pilot named Payback. You met some of the other pilots on the special detachment - Jake made sure that you stayed away from Yale - including the infamous Bradshaw. As much as you wanted to give the pilot who cause Jake’s hangup with his callsign a piece of your mind, you held back. After all, that mustache and call sign - Rooster - were punishment enough.
Around midnight, you and Jake left the bar and went down to the beach. Walking along the shore, you held hands and enjoyed the lap of the waves washing over your feet. You didn’t go too far, knowing that you needed to leave soon so you could get some rest before going to the airport. But as you walked back up towards the bar to say goodnight to everyone, Jake pulled you to a stop when he heard the song playing. Tugging you into his arms, he slid his hands into the back pockets of your jeans and swayed with you as the Beach Boys crooned ‘Don’t Worry Baby’. 
That night, Jake took his time to kiss every inch of your skin as you undressed. His fingers drifted over your curves as though to memorize them. And when he finally slid into you, he made sure you knew exactly how much he loved you. 
You were reminded just how dangerous Jake’s job was on Tuesday. You were in a meeting when your phone chimed with his text. 
Everyone’s okay. Will tell you more tonight.
He didn’t answer your call or text asking for clarification, and neither did Javy, but an hour later, there was a news blast saying there was a training accident and an F-18 had crashed into the desert. It was well after 8:00PM when Jake called. You could hear the fear in his voice when he told you about how three people almost burned in - how he’d almost lost his best friend and could do nothing but stand by the radio in the Ready Room and listen, praying that he snapped out of the G-LOC in time. 
You stayed with him on the phone until he said he needed to shower. You whispered your love, promising to see one another soon.
As soon as you disconnected, you called Javy to check on him. He assured you he was okay, just had a headache. You made him promise to be careful and go get checked out if it got worse.
When you pulled out your laptop to check your email Wednesday morning, there was a notice for a requisition of a new F-18 for the Black Aces squadron. 
Being underway meant had limited contact with Jake. He had access to his official military email address, so he sent you periodic messages, but calls were limited. He managed a video call once to let you know that he was on his way back. As happy as you were to see his face, a new weariness in his eyes made you wonder what had happened. He tried to assure you it was just because of how shitty he slept on the carrier. 
When the six F-18s landed back on Lemoore, you ensured you were on the flight line to greet Jake and Javy. Both men looked tired but happy and quickly did their post-flight checks. You were able to drive them home but had to go back into the office after. 
After work, you stopped to pick up dinner before heading to Jake’s house. When you walked inside, he was asleep in bed. Once you’d changed into your pajamas, you slid between the sheets. 
Jake opened one eye and gave you a sleepy smile before moving closer, curling up on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair until he fell back asleep, reveling in his weight pressing you into the mattress and knowing he was safe in your arms. 
Dating Contract - One-Year Update
Following the annual “Dating” contract review, the two parties identified below agree that all clauses and conditions have been met. It is recommended that parties continue with the contract, maintaining an exclusive and monogamous relationship. 
Recommend the following updates to the contract:
Strike three weeknight sleep-over policy. Parties agree not to set restrictions on the number of nights spent together.
Writer will move into the Contracting partner’s house following the termination of her lease in September. The Contracting partner will add the Writer to his lease.
Contracting partner agrees to allow the Writer to drink coffee in bed, and eat in bed on an ad hoc basis.
Parties agree not to walk out on arguments. Parties agree to request a ‘pause’ if necessary and will finish the discussion when cooler heads prevail.
Parties agree to acknowledge annual dating anniversary with dinner from McDonald’s
Parties agree to become engaged prior to the next annual review
Following the engagement, Parties agree to strike boyfriend/girlfriend and replace with fiancé/fiancée as appropriate
Parties will agree to a yearly review of the contract, with ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise. 
More Sex - J.S.
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Author's Note: I decided to give Harvard a break and make Yale the one who hit on Darlin'. I didn't want to spend too much time with them at TOPGUN since Jake would be focused on the mission, but they couldn't spend their anniversary apart! The contract had to be renegotiated!
Thanks for the patience with this chapter. I ended up scrapping what I'd written and restarting. Hopefully you liked the abbreviated holidays and meet the parents.
To the anon who asked if I'll be posting this to Ao3, I've decided that I will. Not sure if I'll get to it this weekend, but it'll be posted under my new pseud - TrickPhotography2
ALSO - @mayhemmanaged made these gorgeous Instagram posts of Darlin' and Jake that you should look at and love as much as I do.
Thank you for reading ❤️
Read Chapter 10
Tag list: @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @mayhemmanaged; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily
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Mm, Daddy Daddy
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Description: Being a student is hard. For your Master's degree, you have to contend with classes, labs, and assignments in addition to feeding yourself. You're treading water coming into the end of the Spring Semester when your roommate tells you she is breaking her portion of your lease and moving in with her new fiancé. You're left at wit's end and you're not sure how you'll make ends meet. Until, that is, a friend and colleague suggests a website called icanbeyourbaby.com. You're not sure what you'll find there, but Jake Seresin is not it. He's everything you've ever dreamed of and more. But can you keep him despite the contract the website insists you draw up? Will this ever be more than a short-term business arrangement? You hope so. Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one. This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact. Warnings: Reader gets paid for her companionship. This is a Sugar Daddy/ Sugar Baby agreement, after all. Word Count: 4354 Author Note: Hello, hello all you beautiful people! I'm insatiable and you only have @desert-fern to blame for putting this thought in my head. Fern, this one is for you! I hope you'll find yourself a Jake to entice you into studying and call you 'His Good Girl'! 🥰 😘 Also, the real ones know. The title for this fic comes from Sam Smith & Kim Petras - Unholy.
AO3: Cross-posted here! Wattpad: Cross-posted here! Anthology Masterlist My Masterlist
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College sucks. You love learning, and you love being surrounded by so many different, amazingly talented people. What sucks is how expensive it is. Even with a scholarship, a roommate, and not one, but two full time jobs, you're just barely making ends meet. You've just gotten out of a double shift from hell when you walk into your apartment to see that Joanna, your roommate, has her boyfriend over. They're making out on the couch, and while you'd love to ignore them, you need to make yourself dinner and then write a ten page treatise on the effects of pollution on bivalves due tomorrow during your last class for your final grade.
Just as you're pulling your last Cup Noodles out of the microwave, making a mental note to buy more tomorrow, Joanna speaks up.
"Hey, Blue." She sounds nervous for some reason. "I'm glad I caught you before you headed to your room for the night."
"Hey, Jo!" You sound about as tired as you look. "What's up?"
"Well…. Austinproposedtomeandisaidyes." Her last words are too fast for your already stressed brain.
"One more time, Jo? Slowly?" You point to your head. "My brain's kinda fried and I didn't get any of that."
"I said, Austin proposed to me and I said yes." She's proffering her left hand out to you and you can't help your own squeal of glee as you examine the ring and congratulate her.
"Umm, you're the sweetest, you know that, Blue?" Why does she sound so sad when she’s telling you such nice things? "I hate to do this to you, but, um. Well, I'm moving in with Austin this weekend. Our landlady is letting me break my part of the lease, so the place is all yours."
You just congratulate her again, and watch as she and Austin retreat to her bedroom. When the apartment is quiet again, you begin to think. You dimly note how the fork in your hands goes clattering onto the countertop as you try to mentally catalog how many extra shifts you'll need to take to make your next month's rent payment and pay for classes at the same time. But no matter how you do the math, it doesn't add up. You'd need to work more hours than there are in the day and you still wouldn't have enough money. 
It's a conundrum that continues to churn away in the back of your mind as you slurp down the cold noodles and finish writing your paper. You'll need another roommate, at the very least. But summer break has already begun, and you're not likely to find one. Los Angeles is expensive. You mull it over for weeks, even after Joanna moves out. It's your lab partner at the Marine Institute, a girl named Samantha, who suggests an unlikely idea which might just be the most likely solution.
"Create a profile on this site: icanbeyourbaby.com. It's a sugar daddy/sugar baby site. It's full of older men looking for companionship. I started it a couple of months ago and I don't have to worry about anything anymore." It's true. Sammie doesn't look stressed or tired anymore. Her clothes are all new. You thought she'd just gotten a great job, which is why you'd asked if her boss was hiring. You'd never have expected Sammie with her neon pink and yellow hair, piercings and tattoos to be a sugar baby.
You turn the thought over and over in your head, trying to puzzle another way out of your situation without going into prostitution or living in the campus library out of a duffle bag for the rest of the year. When nothing else comes to mind, you fill out a profile on icanbeyourbaby. You stay as true to yourself as you can, feeling heat in your face and ears at the extremely in depth questions about sexual experience and kinks. Finally, you add a selfie taken recently at a friend's birthday party and hit submit. The congratulations screen is so cheery that you almost immediately want to slam your laptop lid down and curl up under your blankets. 
But you don't, because right as you try to, huge cheesy letters spell out "Congratulations, you got a match!" You're then routed into a chat window. You've been matched with a user called longhornlover, and when you click onto his profile, your jaw nearly drops out of its socket. 
His name, when you read through the details, is Jake Seresin. He's a lawyer working for a law firm downtown. He's just turned 34, and you can't quote this enough, he "needs a pretty girl on his arm for galas, dinners and parties, who is intelligent and able to keep up a conversation". Is this guy for real? At least the age gap isn't too bad. He's only 11 years older than you. Money is apparently no object and when you've flipped back to the open chat window, he's already messaged you asking you to meet him for coffee. 
You can't be blamed for saying yes, right? It's way too easy to sink into chatting with Jake on the app. He's more attentive than every man you've ever spoken to and he gives you butterflies every time he messages you good morning.
The day of your first date, you wear your best dress and walk out of your building, prepared to walk to the bus stop in order to make it to your date on time. You're definitely not expecting the shining blue Porsche idling on the street or the six-foot tall man leaning elegantly against the door. Jake's even more gorgeous in person. 
You stammer all over yourself as you greet him and then allow him to help you into the car, and whisk you away. He takes you to a little coffee shop outside of the city. The hostess leads you to a secluded booth and hands you a menu that is a leather bound book with no prices anywhere on the pages. It's quiet as you order an iced coffee and hand the menu back over.
"So, Blue, can I call you that?" At your nod, he continues, "Why did you sign up? What made you consider being a sugar baby?"
"Oh, I, um. My roommate just moved out, I'm working two jobs and I don't know if I'll be able to make rent, my school fees or be able to feed myself now that she's not going to be able to split rent with me." Your voice is quiet, ashamed. You're asking a stranger for money, practically.
"You're in school, your profile said. What are you studying?" He glosses over your shame so easily. Rich people really do have different cares from ordinary people like you.
"I'm at the University of San Diego getting my Masters in Environmental and Ocean studies." At his inquiring glance you continue, elaborating on the program a little bit. You finish up just as your waitress drops off your coffee, twirling her manicured nails in her hair as she smiles fetchingly at Jake. It's very satisfying to see how he doesn't respond to her at all.
"Thank you for telling me about yourself." He takes a sip of his coffee. "So what are you hoping to get out of this arrangement?"
This is the question you've been asking yourself non-stop for the past few days.
"I'd like to not have to worry about whether I'll be able to eat if I pay my rent and tuition. Or if I'll be able to sleep at night if I work and still have assignments I need to complete." You sip on your coffee, praying that all of your nervous sweating hasn't exposed the raccoon circles permanently tattooed under your eyes. "W-what do you want out of this?"
"I want you to be healthy and happy. And, when I have a company party or event to attend, I want you on my arm, smiling and being just as gorgeous as you are right now." His voice is so soft that the butterflies swarm up your esophagus.
"I can do that. Um, what about, um, sex things?" Your voice drops down to a whisper as you say the last words, sinking into your chair while furtively glancing around to see if anyone heard you.
"That's all up to you. I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend and lavish a bunch of affection on you, including making you feel good. If that's something you're not comfortable with, then let me know." Jake's green eyes are glimmering with amusement as you stutter out your agreement.
Your eyes go even wider when he fishes an iPad out of his briefcase and pulls out a contract. He goes over every inch of it with you, making changes based on your comfort level, and then you both sign. That's how you became a sugar baby.
At the beginning it was all new and exciting. Jake deposited a quarter of a million dollars into your bank account the next morning, calling it your quarterly allowance. A part of you still doesn't believe that he's real. In the six months since that day, you've gone to no fewer than five parties, dressed to the nines in designer gowns with diamonds dripping off of your fingers, throat and wrists and been swanned around as Jake Seresin's girlfriend.
You love the kisses and possessive grip he has on your waist at those events. But you're at the point in your relationship, and it is a relationship - Jake had shredded the contract months ago, where you want more. You want the sleepovers at his penthouse downtown. You want him to call you his Good Girl and mean it as you bounce on his cock. So you take matters into your own hands. One Friday afternoon you let yourself into his penthouse, glad that at least you have the keys and don't need permission to do so. You set your bookbag down on the leather ottoman in the living room and pad into his bedroom. 
Jake's bedroom is your favorite place in the entire apartment. It's all pale wood and glass. His bed sits against the sole wall, a plush pillowy California King that you love taking naps in. You walk into the gigantic walk-in closet and pull out one of his button-down shirts, a pale cream one that you love seeing on his golden skin. The fabric is rich and silky and most importantly, ever so slightly transparent. You strip off all of your clothes and swathe yourself in the silky shirt. The cool fabric has your nipples turning into firm points and as you look at yourself in the mirror, you know Jake's going to love seeing you in his clothes, too. 
Then comes the next part of your plan. You settle down on the sofa with a throw over your lap and begin to study. Even though you have seduction on your mind, it's still finals season. Now, you wait. You're completely immersed in your Marine Law class when you hear the door open and Jake walks through the door. He's got a bag of groceries in one hand and his briefcase in the other.
"Hi, doll!" He sounds exhausted. 
"Hi, Jake!" Your voice is soft as you wave at him from your blanket burrito on the couch.
"How was your day, baby?" He sounds exhausted. You answer him from the couch, barely noticing him until you feel a kiss press against the side of your head. It's Jake, now dressed in just a pair of sweats with damp hair.
"When did you shower?" You can't help the confusion in your voice as you rub at your eyes from behind the frames of your glasses.
"Twenty minutes ago, baby." You can feel the amusement in his voice. "What're you so immersed in, huh?"
"Marine law." You keep scanning the slides in front of you, ignoring how his hands are tracing across your shoulders.
"Y'know, baby doll, I am a lawyer. So you can ask me for help if you want?" You can feel your resolve flagging as he sets your laptop down, unwraps you slowly from the throw, and tugs you into his lap. His hands trail teasingly over the bar expanse of your thighs, pausing at the junction of your hips, caressing the soft bare skin there.
"What do we have here, Baby Blue?" His voice is deep and velvety as he rucks the shirt up a little, knuckles firm against your bare stomach. 
"W-wanted to wear your shirt, Daddy." You can hear the rumble of his voice as he groans, trailing his fingers over your peaked nipples and back down to the apex of your thighs.
"And the rest of your clothes?" He's got a firm grip on each thigh, tugging them apart until your bare pussy is completely exposed.
"I-I took 'em off. Just wanted to be surrounded by your scent, Daddy." Your voice is a mewl as Jake massages teasingly over your clit, the barely there touches sending even more heat coiling through your veins.
"And you decided to be my good girl and study while you waited for Daddy to come home?" His calloused fingers pluck at your nipples with each word.
"Y-yes." Your chest is heaving, your mind going fuzzy and blank as Jake's - no - Daddy's hands rob you of all thought.
"You've been such a good girl, baby doll. D'you want your reward?" The fondness in Daddy's voice has you writhing as his hands open your tight walls up for him.
"Yes please, Daddy! Please!" He lifts you up with one thick forearm before working the sweats down to his knees. Now, you can feel Daddy's cock as it glides over your weeping hole as you wriggle in his lap.
"Come sit on this cock, Blue, baby." He punctuates the order with kisses that steal the breath from your lungs. You love when Daddy kisses you like this. You tug the constricting button down off, and carefully sink down onto his hard length. Daddy's cock is so big and thick that it nearly splits you apart. Each inch has your mouth open in a silent scream, and when he bottoms out, you're sweaty and exhausted. Your skin feels too tight and electric shocks are zipping across every inch that he touches. 
Daddy takes pity on you, letting you quiet on his cock, feeling how your walls clench around his length as you settle back against his chest.
"God, look at you, baby Blue. So pretty, my good girl, impaled on Daddy's cock like that." Daddy's big hands cup your tits, and you shudder before melting further into his arms. After several moments, he leans forward, tugging your laptop back onto your lap. "Gotta make sure my good girl is comfy. That she knows daddy is here for her always. Now, you sit here and study. If you're good, I'll fuck you until you scream later."
You're already so wet and aching for Daddy, that it'll be sweet torture to spend so long impaled on his length. His cock is pressing up against all the parts that make you see stars. But you're Daddy's good girl. So you do what he says. The first few pages, you're completely distracted, wriggling around in Daddy's lap, wanting more stimulation. But eventually you fall into a flow state, Daddy's presence comforting. 
You lose time. You must, because it's dark when the laptop closes and Daddy peppers kisses across your exposed shoulders. You're still impaled on his length, each thick inch pressing against your walls in the perfect way. You're slow to respond to the teasing caresses, nuzzling against the palm of Daddy's hand sweetly.
"Aww, baby Blue. You're so good for me, doll." Daddy's voice sounds so fond and it makes a small part of you light up. His praise and gentle words make you feel even better than his cock buried in you. When he lifts you off of his length, you sob at the empty feeling, weeping cunt clenching on nothing where it had once been wrapped around Daddy.
Before you can blink, you're splayed out on your back on Daddy's comfy leather sofa. He's crouched between your legs, gazing raptly at your heat as he pets across your hips and lower belly in slow soothing strokes. 
"D-daddy?" Your voice is tiny, as you try to swivel and nudge your hips closer to him.
"Yeah, baby doll?" Daddy punctuates his words with kisses against your inner thighs and your mound. Your mind whites out a bit at the pressure as he flattens his tongue over your fluttering, wet slit. His voice is smug as he continues, "D'you want something from Daddy, baby?"
You don't get the chance to respond, though. Between one breath and the next, you're being treated like a steak dinner placed before a starving man. Daddy feels like he's everywhere. His mouth and fingers devour you whole. Your entire body feels like a live wire, warring sensations dancing like electric currents across your skin as the band in your gut winds tighter and tighter. It feels like you're on a tightrope, dangling over a cliff.
Each heaving breath feels like too much and yet not enough oxygen is entering your lungs. You're begging and babbling, tugging on Daddy's hair in graceless sweeping motions as your mind forgets how to move or do anything than be at Daddy's pleasure. It's when Daddy growls against your cunt that you cum, screaming his name as your muscles lock with the force of your orgasm.
When you come back to yourself, it's on the cool satin sheets of Daddy's big bed. You feel wrung out and exhausted, mind floaty even as your limbs struggle to cooperate. You've just managed to sit up when Daddy wanders in, holding a condensation covered glass in his big hand. You make grabby hands for him, smiling as he drags you against his chest as you sip on the cool juice in the glass. 
"How are you feeling, baby?" You nuzzle in closer, sleepily peppering kisses across his chest. 
"Feel good, Daddy. Y'always make me feel good." The kiss Daddy presses against your lips consumes you body and soul. It takes several moments before you collect your frayed strands of thought.
"B-but, what about you, daddy? Did you cum?" Your voice is soft as you take his length in your hand.
"No, Blue, baby." His breathing hitches with each pass of your hand as you work his length in your fist. "But you don't have ta'...... Ahh!"
Each stuttering breath makes your smile just a little wider. Daddy's so pretty, his tawny mane of hair spread out against the pillow as a flush spreads across his chest. His big hand is curled around your bare hip as you slowly pump his length. 
"Doll, are you just going to tease me all night?" His voice is so fond as he tugs you close.
"No, Daddy." You melt into his chest as he kisses you. Each long slow slide of his tongue plundering your mouth has you pressing yourself closer. You kiss your daddy slowly, losing yourself to the touch.
"D'you want something baby?" There are big hands on your hips, stalling every movement as you try and fail to search for friction.
"Blue!" He's laughing now, peppering kisses across your pouting face as you fight to eke some pleasure out for yourself. But no matter what you do, you don't move.
"What're you searching for, huh, baby?" You growl as a result, stilling your hips as you suck kisses down his throat. You relish in the moans pouring out of Daddy's throat, brattily ignoring the teasing path of his hands across your lower stomach and breasts.
It's the sharp sting of a hand on your ass that has you squeaking and your mouth parting from the hickey you'd been leaving on Daddy's neck.
"Oh, baby. Did that sting?" As Daddy's big hands rub over your aching ass, you arch your back and try to nuzzle closer. But all that does is bring your bare skin closer to his mouth. The first wet press of his tongue to your peaked nipples has you moaning. You're so occupied by the dual sensations of the hands kneading your ass and the wet insistent suction of Daddy's mouth on your tits that you barely notice the pinching insistent pressure as Daddy's dick presses into you.
When Daddy finally bottoms out, you're already a drooling mess. This sugar baby arrangement is the best decision you've ever made. Daddy's a million times better than your first fumbling sexual experience in your prom date's pickup. His thick hard length in you has your pussy fluttering and already has you on the edge of an orgasm. When you're tipped onto your back in the sheets and Daddy starts to move, you're completely at his mercy.
Each thrust has you taking Daddy from root to tip. The entire room is filled with the lewd slapping of sweat-slippery skin against skin. Your breaths are punched out gasps as Daddy draws your legs up to his shoulders, holding them securely against his chest with one thick forearm as the other presses insistently against your engorged clit. Each brush of his calloused fingers coats them in your wetness and tips you even further towards your orgasm. You're babbling, hardly able to keep eye contact with the piercing, intent gaze Daddy's leveling on your sweat slicked skin. You cum with a scream, back arching off the bed.
"Aww, Blue, baby. Look at you! Fucked dumb on Daddy's thick hard cock." Daddy sets your legs back down as he pulls out of you and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest.
"You're going to be good, right Baby?" You're grinding your ass back against Daddy's ass unconsciously even as Daddy wraps a hand around your throat. You love having Daddy all over you like this. Even though you just came, you can't help wanting more. He uses the extra leverage to kiss your slack mouth until a thread of saliva stretches between your mouths.
"Daddy's gonna fuck your wet little pussy just like this with a hand around this little throat until you gush for me." His voice slows to a hiss as he teasingly runs his finger through your sensitive folds. "And you, baby. You're going to tell your daddy exactly how good he feels in that pretty little pussy."
You're nodding frantically, but that's not enough for Daddy. He smacks your pussy, tapping it until you're writhing against the steel hold he's got around your waist.
"Y-yes, Daddy! Yes! I can do that!" Your voice is a high pitched keen as you sob your relief at having Daddy buried inside you again.
He starts off slow, keeping the pace teasing as he pulls out of you until just the tip is sheathed and burying himself in you over and over again. Your hands are grasping onto his arms with all your strength, as you let Daddy chase his pleasure in you. His hand is firm against your throat, the pressure making you lightheaded and the sensations setting your blood aflame. With each slap of his hips against your ass you're telling him how good he feels. He's so big and thick you can't help it.
"Blue, baby." Daddy's voice is a purring growl which has your pussy dripping even wetter as your third orgasm builds. This one is going to be even harder than the last one. His hands pinch and tug at the heavy swell of your tits as they bounce with each thrust. "Cum for me, pretty baby. C'mon. You can do it. Cum for daddy."
"Yes, Daddy. Right there! M'so close. Wanna cum on your cock. Please. Please. Please. Please." You're still babbling for permission when Daddy's hands slide down to your clit and massage on the bud in time with his thrusts. When you come, it feels like you've been struck by lightning. You see stars behind your eyes as your orgasm builds and crests, seeming to never end. You vacantly feel Daddy empty himself in your sopping cunt, but that's it.
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When you wake up, it's in the big bathtub in the master ensuite. There are hands carefully massaging shampoo into your hair and the water is steaming in the quiet night air. There's a deep relaxation weighing your muscles and bones as you blink yourself awake.
"Hey, Blue. How d'you feel?" It's Dadd- no, Jake, who's making you feel good.
"I feel so good, Jake." You kiss his wrist before turning so you can kiss him. He hefts you into his arms, not caring in the slightest that you're dripping soap and water all over his floor.
"You're back up, huh, baby?" At your nod, he kisses you before continuing. "I know you told me you've never been so far down before. And it definitely wasn't discussed. Was that okay, for you?" He sounds so worried as he sits on the tile with you dripping all over him.
"I'm perfect, Jakey. Perfect. It was everything I needed and more. If you liked it, I'd love to be your Baby Blue again?" You hope he'll agree. You love being Daddy's baby and brat.
"Absolutely, you can. But for the rest of tonight, how about we curl up on the sofa? I made some pasta and garlic bread." He grins at your nod before joining you in the tub again. This? You wouldn't give this up for anything in the world.
"Hey, Blue?" He sounds sated and sleepy.
"Yeah, Jake?" You cuddle closer to him and kiss his skin.
"Move in with me?" He sounds nervous. Like you’d reject him? After everything you’ve built a relationship with him? Not possible. You can’t believe what he’s asking you. You can’t even pretend to think about it. Your mouth runs away before your brain even processes the words screaming,  "YES!" while you kiss him until he’s breathless again. This man? You’re going to keep him forever.
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WIBTA for insisting my husband's online friend sign some sort of lease or contract for moving into our house?
So my husband has a friend from a MMO that he met like 5 years ago. This guy moved across the country to get away from his toxic family and live with his partner there. This partner left him earlier this summer, shouldering him with the full financial responsibility for the apartment they used to share, which he could not afford alone. When he heard about this, my husband offered to help, because the friend doesn't have any closer connections and really doesn't want to return to his toxic family, if they'd even have him back. A couple years ago my husband and I bought a house, and it has a guest bedroom, and my husband offered it to him without asking me first. "If you can't find somewhere affordable in time let me know." He did tell me almost immediately afterwards, though. It's his nature to offer help when he has the means to do so, whether it's a friend or a stranger in the Walmart parking lot who needs their engine jumpstarted. I love that about him, but I feel like it's gone a bit far this time.
I've only spoken to this guy myself a couple times when I still played this MMO. We don't know what he looks like, and my husband only just recently learned his real name (he never felt the need to ask before.) But my husband trusts him, and I want to trust my husband. I still have my reservations, though, because I don't know him, and also because after years of living in crappy apartments and with crappy roommates, I highly valued finally having our own private home, where we can be as indiscreet as we like, stay up as late as we want on our days off, and have a place for our friends to crash for the couple nights a year when we can actually get together and get real drunk. But despite all this, I told my husband ok, as long as it's only temporary, and only if he doesn't find any other option before he has to vacate his current apartment. Because I didn't want to be the reason that someone my husband considers a friend to be homeless, or back with an abusive family. There is a verbal agreement/understanding that the friend needs to find a job here ASAP, start paying rent once he has a paycheck, and be looking for a place of his own while he's here.
Well, his friend wasn't able to find anything else, and my husband has already bought a plane ticket for him, and one box of his things has already arrived at our house in advance of his arrival, so it's too late to rescind the offer. I spoke to my mom and mother-in-law about it and they are EXTREMELY skeptical, being older people and all and not really understanding the idea of internet friendships. But after talking to them, I'm more anxious about this than I initially realized. Moms and I floated the idea of drafting some kind of contract or rent agreement or something, so that we have some sort of recourse if this person isn't trustworthy or things go pear shaped. But my husband insisted it isn't necessary to go that far, that this will definitely be a short term thing, but in this economy I really doubt that.
I know now I should've pressed the issue earlier. If I pushed against it hard enough I think my husband would have dropped it. But I also genuinely don't want to be the reason this guy's homeless. It's entirely possible he's a perfectly trustworthy guy and is as nice in person has he has been online. I thought a written agreement would be a fitting compromise since it's definitely too late to pull back without being the asshole for sure, but I want some measure of protection. I'd do some legal research first to make sure it's done correctly. But WIBTA if I insisted on that? what would tumblr do?
What are these acronyms?
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