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#or you could just go fuck in the convertible
bratzforchris · 2 days
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Inked Daisies (Chapter 3)
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Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?
Read Chapter 2 here
Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader
Warnings: Drinking, sexual harassment and unwanted touch, protective!Matt, physical fighting/mentions of blood, suggestive comments, a few uses of y/n
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Save me protective!Matt...protective!Matt save me. In all seriousness though, this is a tad bit different than my usual fluffy stuff, so let me know what you think!! Enjoy 💐🌸🌹🌻
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“We need to talk.”
You jumped, dropping your pink watering can in the process. You whirled around to see who the speaker was, placing a hand to your racing heart. “Nick, what the fuck? You can’t do that.”
“Where have you been all week?” Your friend asked, leaning against the brick wall of your shop as he spoke. 
“What do you…mean?” You asked carefully, picking up your watering can and continuing to water the flowers in the planter boxes on the window. “I’ve been busy, Nick,” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“Oh, it’s not me I’m worried about,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s Chris. He’s acting like a mopey puppy because you haven’t been over.”
You bit your lip, feeling rather guilty about the way you’d sort of ghosted your friends. You’d been responding to their messages, of course, but you hadn’t made any move to hang out or became seemingly ‘under the weather’ when they asked. You figured it was best to just keep your distance for a few days until you wiped the memory of Matt walking in on you showering from your mind. Not to mention the way you hadn’t even been embarrassed about it. 
“I’m sorry…I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” You murmured, eyes sliding to the shop across the street subconciously. “Do you know what we should do?” You asked, still staring at the building across the street as you formulated an idea in your mind. 
“Attach you and Chris at the hip so he’ll stop fucking whining? Make you two get married?” Nick suggested, a jokingly cynical look on his face. 
“Okay, first of all, Chris is my best friend. We’re not getting married. We don’t even like each other like that.” You grumbled, finishing your task and walking towards the stained-glass door of your shop. 
Nick followed after you, stepping inside the shop as well, despite your business technically not being open for the day. Petal Perfection was an almost magical place, if you did say so yourself. You had started converting the old antique shop as soon as you’d bought the place, turning it from old and dusty to vibrant and full of life. On one wall was your register and the glass case that displayed your latest offerings and arrangements, while the other two held a variety of small trinkets and gifts, and a self-serve bouquet station where customers could pick the flowers they wanted and arrange them in their unique way. 
You started bustling around, straightening up and getting ready for the day, awaiting your employee’s arrival. Maybe it was the fact that you were consumed with guilt over how you’d treated the boys over the past few days, or maybe it was the implications about how Chris felt about you and marriage, but either way, the pale pink walls of your store felt like they were closing in on you. 
“We should surprise Chris at work tonight!” You said brightly as you wiped the glass case with a soft cloth. “Besides, I could use a night out.”
“Huh,” Nick tilted his head sideways as he looked at you, feeling like there was something off about your behavior, but not being able to place what it was. “I mean I guess, but where did that idea come from?”
“Can a girl not just want to have drinks and go dancing?” You asked him, faking a confident, happy aire. 
“God, you’re so ADHD. It’s not even funny.” 
“Says you.” 
Although Nick had been diagnosed with ADHD in childhood and you in high school, it had been a running joke between you two ever since you’d connected. Granted, your friend would always fight with people who tried to make fun of or discriminate against either of you, but that didn’t stop you from bullying each other. 
“Do you think Matt will want to come?” Nick asked, fiddling with his phone. 
At the mention of the middle triplet’s name, you froze, all memories of last Friday flooding back to you. “Uhhhh…he doesn’t really like…bars and stuff, y’know?”
If Nick seemed to catch onto your hesitation, he didn’t mention it. “You’re right. I’ll invite him anyway, though. He’s been hurled up in that shop like a fuckin’ hermit.” he said, jerking his thumb towards the street. 
Sure enough, Matt’s car was already parked outside ThreeSixty Tattoo, despite the fact that it was only just after eight in the morning and the shop didn’t open until noon. The shades were still drawn so that you couldn’t see inside the store, but you knew that he was already hard at work, prepping for a long day of tattoos and piercings. 
“You’re a good brother, Nick.” You smiled, setting up the register for the day as your first (and only) two employees filed into the shop. 
You watched as Nick bid you his goodbyes and left the shop, crossing to the smaller, painted black brick one across the street. A part of you that you couldn’t explain was glad Matt had already pulled the shades up for the day, because then you could sneak a peek at your friends every now and then before the rush for the day started. In a way, you almost hoped Matt would say yes to Nick’s offer, despite your avoidance of the triplets for the past week. Maybe if you saw him in person again, you would realize that what had happened wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe. 
✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚
“I don’t see why we have to do this,” Matt grumbled as you led him and Nick through the bar, his older brother tugging his wrist. “It’s work. Chris is literally just at work.” 
“Because it’s a nice surprise!” You yelled over the thumping club music. “And it’s Friday night. Some of us like to do fun things with our weekends while we’re young, y’know?”
He knew you couldn’t see it due to the dim lighting, but Matt rolled his eyes as he was pulled through the crowd. Unlike his younger brother, Matt hated anything that had to do with bars, clubs, or party atmospheres. They were too chaotic and noisy, and drunk people were annoying. The brunette would’ve much rather sat and had a meaningful conversation with someone than go drinking. Sometimes though, when he was alone in his room at night, you were the first person that came to his mind when he wished he was someone else. Someone more outgoing, more friendly, more fun.
Like right now, for example. You were sliding in between bodies, laughing and talking as you made your way to the bar. All of the people you spoke to were complete and utter strangers, yet you talked like you’d known them your whole life, all while being completely sober. By definition, you were bubbly. Ever since Matt had known you, you’d had no trouble making friends. When he was alone, he thought about what it might be like to have that personality. People absolutely flocked to you, and to him, it was admirable. Without even noticing it, a small smile had crossed Matt’s face as he watched you, despite all the noise and the uncomfortable feeling of sweat against his skin as people continued to grind into each other. 
The three of you found seats at the bar, with you sitting in the middle and chatting animatedly while you waited for Chris to notice you. Right now, the youngest was in his zone, yelling out instructions to the trainees and bustling around with cocktail shakers in both hands. The club he worked at was one of the most popular in Los Angeles, and despite the cold January evening, tonight’s turnout was nothing short of humongous. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of waiting, Chris turned to his right, wiping sweat from his brow.
“What the fuck? What are you guys doing here?” he asked, a smile growing on his face despite the tiredness that was clearly evident. 
“We came to surprise you!” You stood up on the rungs of your chair, leaning across the bar and hugging Chris’ neck. “How’s the shift?”
“Busy as fuck. Do you know how many Manhattan’s I’ve made–” Chris was cut off when you were yanked back into your seat by Matt’s hands around your waist. 
“What was that for?” You grumbled, adjusting your tiny, leather shorts. 
“You’ll get hurt.” Matt said flatly, expression unmoving. 
“How?” You cocked your head incredulously, staring at the brunette who sat unmoving with his arms folded over his chest. 
“Yeah, Matt. How?” Chris challenged, never missing an opportunity to poke fun at one of his brothers. 
“You could fall.”
“And Chris would catch her.” Nick added in, quite enjoying the way Matt was fidgeting at the questions. 
“Would he?” Matt smirked when Chris was pulled away by another customer who was insistently ordering a margarita. “Cause it seems like he’s busy.”
“You’re no fun.” You groaned, finding yourself sliding back into the easy rhythm of friendship that you had always had with the boys. As the bass of whatever current EDM song was playing pounded in your heart, you found yourself thinking less and less about your little…encounter with Matt last week. “Come on, Nick,” You said, hopping off the stool and grabbing the oldest triplets’ hand. “Let’s dance.”
Matt watched as you and Nick were swept into the crowd. He heard Chris chatting his ear off on the side as he continued to make drinks for the people swarming the bar, but his eyes always found their way back to you. In the darkness of the club, you were like a little beacon of light. Your hips swayed to the music as you threw your head back laughing while Nick spun you around. Eventually, you started pulling other clubbers into your dance circle, and the boy found himself fighting the urge to join. He was a terrible dancer, but you made it look so effortlessly fun that he almost believed he could do it. 
“You got a crush on Y/N, man?”
Matt painstakingly pulled his eyes off of you and the dance floor, turning towards Chris, who was beating the mint leaves for a mojito, a cold yet inquisitive look on his face. “No.”
“You sure are acting like it,” the younger brunette said coolly, sweeping the ingredients into a shaker. “Watching her like a German Shepard and shit.”
Matt rolled his eyes, not even denying it as he looked back over towards the dance floor. You had drifted away from Nick by this point, not wanting to cockblock the oldest triplet who was currently chatting with a much taller guy with dreads and a septum piercing. In the nicest way possible though, Matt didn’t give a fuck about his brother. He had become attuned to your movements now, watching as you said something to some overly drunk motherfucker. 
The guy continued trying to talk to you, getting more heated as he spoke. A frown was growing on your face at his feeble attempts to get you somewhere more secluded, seemingly not understanding that you were here with your friends and wanted to be left alone. Matt told himself that he just wanted to keep an eye on you for your safety. He didn’t care who you did or didn’t talk to. You were just one of his friends, and he wanted you to be safe. The brunette halfheartedly  listened to Chris rattle off random nonsense while he bustled around the bar, but when the awful idiot placed an unwanted hand on your ass, Matt was up and across the club in three quick strides. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Matt asked roughly, yanking the guy’s arm off of you. 
“Chill, dude,” the guy slurred drunkenly, trying to wrest free from Matt’s grip. “She said she was single.”
“She’s not,” he lied easily, tightening his ironclad grip on the man’s arm. “And even if she was, that doesn’t give you a right to touch her without her permission.” 
“Matt…” You said tentatively, not wanting this to escalate. “It’s fine, okay? Let’s just go.”
Your friend wasn’t hearing you as he grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt, lifting him so that he was inches away from his own face. “Get the fuck out of here. Don’t touch her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking look at her. Got it?”
“Oh I’ll get out of here,” the guy sneered, alcohol hot on his breath. It was clear that in his drunken stupor he didn’t realize Matt was deadly serious. “And take that little pornstar body with me. I’ll fuck that bitch ‘til she can’t walk and make you watch. How about that, pretty boy?”
It all happened so fast. One second, the guy was taunting Matt, and the next, the brunette’s ring-clad knuckles had collided with his jaw. Matt continued to go at it on the guy’s face, landing blow after blow as clubbers yelped and yelled. Before any of you knew it, Chris had come from around the bar, pulling Matt back and making him drop the guy. Both men were still yelling, one clearly more drunk than the other as Chris pushed Matt into a corner. 
“Matt. You need to chill.” the youngest triplet yelled over the music, assessing Matt’s bloody nose and already bruising eye and jaw where the man had hit back. 
“He fucking grabbed Y/N’s ass!” Matt yelled, struggling against Chris’ hold. 
“Matt,” Chris said firmly, pinning his brother to the wall. “No fighting. He shouldn’t have touched her, but you can’t get physical, man.”
In the chaos and confusion, Nick had swept you up and out of the club. Matt didn’t know this, though. All he knew was that some guy, some motherfucker, had touched you against your will, and he was going to pay for that. Whether or not you were his girlfriend, he was going to protect you until his very last breath. 
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tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
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doyou000me · 4 months
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Okay, so.... *steeps fingers together, takes a deep breath*
I started watching Pit Babe fully expecting it to be trash, but I'd heard there was omegaverse stuff in it and I got curious. Were they really making an omegaverse series?? If so, how far will they take it? Call it a social study, if you will.
I was not prepared for it to hook me, but here we are. Episode 7 with canon-confirmed mpreg and I'm loving it, cackling like a maniac as I'm going through the tag to see the uproar. I'm having way too much fun. Someone take this show from me and put my sanity back.
This chaos is magnificent and I love it.
More, please.
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lobotomyladylives · 16 days
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people often assume when we all go out together that I'm my half brothers mom (I'm 20 years older than him) & that his parents are his grandparents & it's so funny bc I know it bothers them. old ass idiots
#my dad was 49 & his wife was 45 when they had him#the story behind his birth is actually extremely fucked up like everything else about their relationship#so my dad left her like a million times to try to go back to my mom (who kept telling him no unless he sorted out his issues) then he#would always run right back to her & she always took him back. anyways i guess he said smth along the lines of#''my wife (he was still married to my mom) will always be the love of my life bc shes the mother of my kids''#and...she went off bc & on fertility treatments without telling him. then shes pregnant & he is still saying he wants to come back to us#so she said he will never see their kid & her son from a previous marraige THREATENED MY DAD AT GUNPOINT#and said if you ever leave my mom again ill fucking kill yoi#so then the divorce was finalized & they got married & my half brother was born. rest is history#for the record i dont feel sorry for my dad at all it was his fault too. the fucking hypocrite was having sex before marriage#and he knew she was nuts & far too attached to her#what a fucking idiot. all he had to do was get on meds & in therapy & admit he was wrong & he could have stayed with us#but he needed constant validation & to be in charge of everything & thats what his new wife gives him. she converted to his cult & now they#raise my brother in it. and she just does whatever my dad wants & lets him treat her like shit. i would actually feel sorry for her if sh#if she werent such a fucking awful person. and she tries to be all nicey nice w/us despite being a literal homewrecker.#and doing things like telling my dad he cant spend more than 50 dollars per year on each of us#while having him buy her a third car & a 1500 dollar fur coat. lol#theyre so much better off financially than us that its unreal. my mom doesnt get a penny despite how much we are struggling#but if i want a relationship with my half brother i just have to pretend none of this is weird or wrong.#anyways i just hope he never finds out the circumstances of his birth bc god can you fucking imagine
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i was gonna meet with my Rabbi today but the meeting was cancelled so i can’t ask his advice on something that is happening Today so. uh. help
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pebblezone · 1 year
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About to serve absolutely abysmal cunt
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carolinanadeau · 15 days
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oh THERE are the nasty horrible people I wanted to block
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horsescary · 1 month
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I really should look into whether or not someones already made a better implementation of the ideas that I have...
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monsterblogging · 2 months
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"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"
You sure about that?
I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.
Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?
And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?
Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.
Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?
Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.
Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.
"But the characters are so good!"
Are you kidding me?
Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")
"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"
Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.
I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.
Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.
The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!
But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.
Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.
If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.
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Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.
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feral-coffee · 3 months
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I never expected to see anything like this. I'm fairly used to being the ... token, I suppose, or at least I was when I still had community to interact with.
Everyone else into flogging was just whack whack whack, hard, hard, hard, until the sub had enough*. I had my own technique, I kept people guessing as the Dom and as the sub, I learned to accept that not everyone does it like me and sometimes it's the Dom that ends up ending the session because they imagine I couldn't possibly want to take it that far and what could it mean I though something was lacking.
I haven't even finished the video yet and it's like hearing my own thoughts in another person's voice. And yes, mix it up, go hard to the point of crossing over into blood play if that's wanted, go soft and gentle, go moderate and let the sub wonder if it's a prelude to hard or soft. Go hard to bring sensitivity up, soft to work with that sensitivity and turn it into a very intense and loving caress, go moderate to keep the feelings maintained so the hard and soft remain balanced, tolerable, enjoyable. Read your sub, give them what they desire while subverting their own expectations by making the next time the whip comes in contact with them a surprise.
Keep it safe, of course, keep it consensual, of course, but don't let it become dominated by rules intended to keep it uniform and boring. Keep it new, take it to new levels and find new ways to transcend the everyday drudgery of life.
These people would get me.
Seriously, if you understand and work with the emotions of the whole session and say fuck the aesthetics of it, any audience you have, as well as partners will absolutely adore the part of the overall aesthetic they'd been missing before. It goes from basic and cold and formulaic, to real, heartfelt, and deep, and to me, that's everything.
*Not shaming the community - some do like that. I was just different. We were all different in our own ways.
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evilminji · 28 days
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
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phantomrose96 · 1 year
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I'm thinking about Tumblr Live again and ruminating on WHY it's such a huge flop and I think I've figured it out: They've completely refused to make it a tumblr feature...
By which I mean (begrudgingly goes to unsnooze Tumblr live) this:
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^This is meant with zero insult or derision to the people above, but these are absolutely not Tumblr users.
Every single thumbnail I've ever seen for Tumblr live seems to say "This is for clout!" "This is for a thirst trap!" "This is for influencers!" "This is for Tiktok wannabe stars!" "This is for showing your pretty filtered face and reaping what people on Instagram and Tiktok are desperately chasing!"
I'm remembering that Reddit has (or had) livestreams you could tune into like this. I've tapped into some. Ones I remember offhand include:
a guy just wandering around downtown in his city silently showing people the streets and stuff
a guy streaming his attempt to beat the last level of Celeste
a guy streaming his dog he was petting
And that, that was Reddit. That was undoubtedly just regular Reddit users going "oh stream feature? yeah okay. here's my dog." "here's my video game." "here's my street corner in Prague."
And when I think of all the recent successful Tumblr features, they're all things that correctly tapped into actual Tumblr user interests. Blaze had people go "haha yeah here's my dog." "here's my advertisement for a horse lawyer (lawyer who is a horse)." They let us buy crabs because, fuck it, crabs. The blue checkmarks were funny. Polls turned into the fandom brackets people have desperately wanted to make for a decade+. I'd wager the merch that calls on old Tumblr memes is at least decently successful.
If Tumblr Live wanted the chance to be successful, it should have been angled toward Tumblr users. "Here, you can livestream your cat if you want." "You can livestream yourself working on some fanart and chatting." "You can livestream yourself going bird watching because birds are your hyperfixation and you can identify them all by their song to all your followers who want to tune in for bird facts."
But Tumblr Live has never tried to be that. It ONLY seems like it wants to be a Tiktok-clone, Instagram-clone, clout-chaser baited-hook trying to pull converts over from Tiktok/Insta/etc who are trying to grow their influencer brand, which Tumblr is lethally hostile to.
(And ALL of this is only touching on the concept behind what's happening here. I haven't even touched on the third-party streaming service and questionable data protection.)
Like fine, I guess I get it from a business model of trying to grow your userbase--since catering to your existing userbase doesn't pull in new meat. But this will not work. Because anyone, tumblr-native or not, trying to grow themselves as an influencer will NOT find success here. This place is not a place of honor. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here. What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us. We will not watch your Shein haul stream.
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Highkey would like to NOT have to pay Cambridge to send my exam results to a fucking University like at this point they are just extorting money from high school students who need to get into university what the fuck is this tand you know they do this on purpose no one needs fucking over 200 dollars to remark one paper and they certainly don't need 50 pounds to post exam results like its such a scam and it's just exploiting people (who have already paid this fucking institution to take their damn exams) so they can go for a higher level of education
The whole fucking system is rigged fuck Cambridge fuck their "board of examinations valid intertnationally" fuck gcses fuck igcse I hate them all I hope they DIE
#god im angry#like#just to tell you oh you got the same grade as the first time we marked this.... pls pay us for that#might as well hang a board around their necks saying hey we're fucking useless#and strange how everyone with a non-White name always score lower than people with white names#that cant be racial bias in their examiners could it#but no one will say anythign bc its ~ so prestigious ~ and its an 'honour' to graduate with cie certifications#WELL FUCK THEM#STOP MAKING ME PAY FOR STUFF#OR JUST GO FUCKING BANKRUPT IM SURE THATS A THING THATLL HAPPEN IF YOU STOP EXTORTING STUDENTS#yes this old as balls organisation lost all its money bc they stopped asking exorbitant amounts from their examinees#sounds so fucking realisitic#they just fucking do this#for fucking what? laughs#no#ill tell you why#its just fucking racism bc when you convert pounds into asian/ south american currency thats like a weeks living wage youre paying#but when someone is froma country like england or america where their currency has the most value its nothing for them#which means that when two students get Bs and are encouraged to ask for re-marks. only one can afford it#and she was british#anyway#fuck cambridge#burn it all down#kill the old white men running this shit#and uh idk if the odds are against you then be like me and get mad at the system while playing along with it#bc how else will you make it in life#(also ive cooled down bc it took me a good 10 mins to write that rant so - its not just cambridge. elitist orgs everywhere do this#and its not a problem of racism either it classism and wanting the working class to stay the working class.#bc if every asian was given a good education and the chance to go to oxbridge then whod be in the swearshop making their suits for them#so yeah im mad about racism in general and also classism but you have to admit cambridge is pretty fucking racist too. so. i wasnt wrong)
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deadsetobsessions · 17 days
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
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neowinestainedress · 8 months
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SECRET — lee jeno
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𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)
𝐖𝐂: 10.202k
𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!
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Jeno has a secret.
Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.
It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.
It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.
Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.
Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.
And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.
But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.
And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.
So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.
Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.
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Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.
Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.
But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.
Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.
And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.
You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.
Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.
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You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.
But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.
Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.   
You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.
You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.
But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.
You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.
Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?
But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.
And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.
“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.
He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?
You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”
“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”
“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.
“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.
“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”
“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.
You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”
“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”
You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”
“All?”
“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.  
Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.
“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”
“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?
“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.
Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.
“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.
But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.
“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.
But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.
You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.
You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.
“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”
He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”
You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”
He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.
“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”
His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”
You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”
Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?
You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.
Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”
You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”
“But I —”
“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”
“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.
“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”
That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.
“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.
You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.
Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”
He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.
“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”
“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.
“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”
Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.
You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.
“Words.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.
“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.
You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.
You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.
Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.
You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”
Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”
“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.
He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”
You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.
“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.
Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.
“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”
It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.
“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.
“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.
“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.
Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.
He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.
Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.
After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.
“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.
“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.
“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”
And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.
It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.
“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.
“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.
Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”
You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.
“Was it good?”
Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”
You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”
“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.
“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.
He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.
“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”
Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.
“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”
He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”
“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.
“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.
“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.  
“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.
“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”
You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”
“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.
“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.  
He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”
“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.
“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”
“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”
“No, miss, I’m sorry.”
“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”
Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”
“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”
You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.
“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”
“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?
You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.
“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.
Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.
“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.
“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”
You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.
He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.
“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”
“But —”
“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”
“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.
“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.
“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”
“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.
His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.
“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.
You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.
“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.
“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”
It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”
You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.
You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.
“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”
“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.
Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”
You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”
“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”
It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.
“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.
Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.
“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.
“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.
“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.
“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.
“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”
Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.
“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”
“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.  
“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”
“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.
Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”
Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.
“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.
But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.
“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.
You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”
Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”
“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.
“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”
“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”
You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.
His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.
Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.
“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”
He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.
It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.
“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.
“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”
He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.
“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”
He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.
“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”
His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”
“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.
“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.
“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.
“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.
“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.
“Please, please, please, ma’am.”
“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”
When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.
Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.
“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.
“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”
“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.  
“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.
Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.
And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.
And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.  
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When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.
Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.
“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”
Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.
“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”
“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.
“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”
He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.
You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.
Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.
“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”
You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”
“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”
You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.
“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”  
Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”
You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”
He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”
“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”
Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.
“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.
When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.
“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”
“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”
Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.
“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”
Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
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© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
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zhongrin · 10 months
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01101100011011110110000101100100011010010110111001100111001011000010000001100110011101010110001101101011011010010110111001100111
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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, capitano, childe
◇ tags ◇ minors dni, afab!reader, chubby!reader, self aware android au, overstimulation (zhongli al haitham), period sex (al haitham), oral (giving / al haitham), inhuman features (capitano), did (childe | tartaglia), sadistic tendencies (tartaglia)
◇ a/n ◇ i have no words ya girl filthy and i blame it to the zhongli sisterwives coalition for enabling me (if yall see this, ily <3). also - obligatory tag to crys @crystalflygeo bc i feel like she'll set off a feral al haitham at me if i don't tag her /aff /silly. lastly no i definitely don't play favorites wdym
𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
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handsome, elegant, gentle, and overall the perfect partner. from the random geology facts to his massages and specially blended teas, zhongli is the ideal android companion you could ever splurge on. he’s an expensive model and will break your bank, plus, his various dlcs and extensions - ranging from his alter personality “morax” which is brasher and rougher on the edges to the several… ‘attachments’ you could purchase to enhance his ‘performance’ - could probably get you into debt if you’re not careful.
but really, it barely matters when he manages to fuck you just fine with his standard out-of-the-box attachment. he’s as rough as you want him to be, yet at the same time he kisses you like you’re the most precious gem he’s ever unearthed and he’s not pounding you against your bedroom door. your knees buckle and your voice cracks around the edges as you scream his name for the hundredth time that night, the way he’s bullying into your sweetest spot making you gush yet again.
he’s perpetually hard as he helps you come down from your high, and the circle in his amber eyes spins as he loads the data from your smartwatch in a matter of milliseconds.
“2092 calories... hmm. i suppose you’ve met your goal for today….”
zhongli bends down to press a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. and for a moment you sink into post-climax bliss, feeling warm and satiated and a lot less stressed than when you first started-
he smirks when your whole body jolts as his finger starts to slowly rub your swollen bud, hips gently moving to set a slow pace to not overstimulate you too much. although he had to say he was tempted to do so, with the indecent sound you’re making from both your upper and lower set of lips.
”… but what say you we go for more? after all… you’re most sensitive when you’re on the peak of your fertile days - such as today, yes?”
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your android is very very strange, you decide. but then again his personality is described as “a tad insufferable” on the label so you guessed teyvat⟡robotics is at least being honest. for one, al haitham is very punctual with his ‘working hours’ - in fact, it was the very first thing he asked when you turned him on. anything after his ‘office hours’, and he gives you the insufferable roommate treatment. he also prefers to read physical books instead of using his supercomputer brain to look up information. he’s also very seemingly apathetic about a lot of things, and sometimes it drives you crazy… just like now.
“you said you wanted the cramps to hurt less. now stay still.”
he seems to not give any fuck about all the period blood smeared over his synthetic skin as he brings you over the edge for the third time tonight.
granted he could just turn off his smell and taste sensor, but you were pretty sure the vivid lust in his verdant green optics with a diamond of terracotta of his activity bar must be a glitch in his code. with muscled arms hugging your plump thighs, he buried himself further into your cunt, humming when he felt you clench around his tongue amidst his ministrations. they vibrate and fucks your sweetest spot with such precision and speed - and with each climax, it gets harder and harder to think.
go ahead, tug on his hair all you want - he’s just doing what you’ve instructed him to do. and what is he if not exemplary at his job? hell - perhaps if it’s for this, he wouldn’t mind working overtime.
“when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to feel any pain, let alone think.”
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previously a unit made for war, the capitano model is intimidating - and that’s an understatement. he’s tall, bulky, rigged with many alien-like features, and would probably get stuck on your house’s doorways, but what most people don’t know since they don’t bother reading his manual is that he’s utterly soft and gentle to his owner. in this case, namely, you.
and you’re glad that he is because the sinful way his thick fingers are stirring your sloppy pussy and fucking your mouth was already making you see stars. long thick tongue slithered out from his ‘mouth’ behind the crevasse of his helmet, wrapping around your breast and flicking your hardened nipple, a guttural purr that sounded both mechanical and otherworldly seemingly making the air vibrate.
he hums when you beg for his girthy manhood, and his fingers scissor your walls as he gauges your reactions. capitano grunts and chuckles, gentle yet with a dark undertone behind it as he taps onto your clit and fucks you deeper with his fingers.
“not yet. you’re not ready, my little human. maybe after you give me two more orgasms.”
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the general consensus is that ajax is the cutest companion one could ever get from the market, and you used to agree with that sentiment. he’s sweet and cheerful, cooks you the best homemade meals, and knows when to hold you when you feel too stressed.
if only your curious soul didn’t hack into his program that one night out of curiosity. if only you hadn’t found the commented-out section amongst the lines of codes in his program. if only-
tartaglia is meaner - a lot meaner, in fact. ajax holds your hand like you’re a bubble rising on top of the water's surface which can pop any moment, but tartaglia pins them onto your mattress in a tight grip to prevent you from escaping. ajax's focus is to please you and make you feel like royalty who's in for a good time - tartaglia’s focus is on how loud you can scream in pleasure for him, how many times you can come undone by his hands compared to ajax, and he thrives by hearing his name falling from your lips as your eyes cross and your cunt spasms around his length.
too sensitive? too much? you can’t?
“but babe…. doesn’t it feel even better when there’s a little bit of pain mixed with the pleasure?”
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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you made me this way
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words: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, murder!!, guns!!, blood!!, drug dealer!rafe and reader, reader kills a cop!!, romanticizing murder and violence!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male receiving oral
“baby, give me the gun.” rafes eyes are wide, but they're not trained on you, even as he reaches his hand out for the weapon.
you quickly turn it and place the handle against his palm, your own hand shaking when you lower it. rafe unloads the chamber before tucking the gun into his belt, his eyes still on the body now bleeding out on the deck of the boat.
“baby. what the fuck did you just do?” rafe finally drags his eyes away from the growing pool of red.
you're surprised by rafes anger, his harsh tone.
“you-you said he was in our way!” you justify your actions. 
rafe knew it was a mistake to let you into the drug game on the island, to convert you from sweet innocent girlfriend to a dealer, to the partner in his growing empire.
“so you fucking shoot him?” rafe shouts, stepping closer to you.
“of course! i did this for us rafe, for you.” you emphasize. you'd do anything for rafe, and you were just showing him by taking out the competition, and a dirty cop in the meanwhile. no one would suspect that an officer was the one rivaling with the young dealer on the island, so the best thing you could do for business was to dispose of him before he was able to get enough dirt to turn to his colleagues and become the sole distributor in the outer banks.
“we gotta get rid of his body-fuck-who else knew he was here?” rafes mind is reeling, running through all the possibilities of ways you could get caught as he looks around the isolated area, his boat anchored in the sand.
“nobody! i was really safe about it and we are close to the swamp, we can dump his body there and then no one will ever know.” you explain, having learned from rafes stories and warnings that the alligators will take care of anything left in the swamp.
“okay.” rafe takes a deep breath. “okay. we’ll figure this out. lets just get rid of this body then go from there.” “you’re hard.” you point out, rafe looking down at his swim trunks, tented in the front. “you just murdered someone for me baby, of course i’m hard.”
“fuck me.” you cross over to rafe, pressing your body into his. “fuck me then we can get rid of the body.”
“you’re fucking crazy.” rafe says, but a smile graces his lips, his hand grabbing your ass.
“if i’m crazy, it’s because you’ve made me that way.” you kiss rafe, mouth quickly being devoured by him.
rafe moves you backwards towards the sofa, the sunlight hitting the plastic waterproof material as he pushes your hips down to sit, with rafe still hovering over top you.
“suck me, baby.” rafe tugs his swim shorts down, his hard cock instantly being swallowed as you lean forward, needing to taste his thickness in your mouth.
“fuck, so good.” rafe moans, thrusting his hips forward, fucking into your mouth as you relax your throat for him to slide down. rafes hands fist in your hair as he moans, eyes flickering over to the dead body, the man that you killed for rafe, for your joint business.
“love your mouth, baby. love everything about you.” rafes soft words are contrast to how hard hes pushing his cock inside of your mouth, not even caring when you start to gag around him, struggling to breathe through your nose.
you eventually have to tap rafes thigh to take a deep breath, but your hand takes the place while you breath, continuing to pleasure rafe.
“wanna fuck you now, come on.” rafe grabs your hips, turning you over so you’re kneeling on the couch, hands gripping the back, looking over the side of the boat towards the sea.
rafe tugs your dress up, the thin cotton material revealing your swimsuit. rafe groans at the tiny bows on either side of your hip, instantly tugging at them so your bikini bottoms fall to the floor.
“do anything for you rafey.” you moan as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, feeling how wet you are. “anything.” you shudder as he pushes against your entrance, his cock easily entering you with how wet you are.
“i know, baby.” rafe groans, pushing into you slowly but with ease. “you killed for me.” “would do it again.” you clench your cunt around rafes cock, encouraging him to move faster.
rafe keeps the slow pace despite you whining, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you still. “gonna fuck you nice and slow at first. make you feel real good.”
rafe moves one hand around to your stomach, gently caressing your soft skin before skirting lower, his fingers circling around your clit before pressing over it, his fingertips soft on your sensitive pussy as he rubs.
“so good.” you moan, eyes squeezing shut instead of looking at the horizon.
“i know, baby, i know.” rafe groans, glancing over at the dead cop again, the circle of blood expanding even more. rafe knows the clean up is going to be a bitch, but it’s worth it to get rid of the competition.
“harder, please.” you whine.
“not yet.” rafe smirks, loving that you’re already begging for him. “gotta be good and still for me, okay?”
“can’t.” you whine, trying to move a little, but rafes hands are too tight, keeping you from doing anything besides squirming a bit.
“just a bit longer, mmkay? you just killed a man for me, you need to calm down and let me take care of you.” rafe flicks over your clit before continuing to rub over it.
you take a deep breath, trying to calm down and just focus on rafes cock smoothly rubbing against your walls, lightly stretching you open.
“ready?” rafe hums, and before you can register his question, his thrusts suddenly deepening and quickening, pounding into you while pulling you back onto his cock with his one hand.
“oh fuck!” you shout out, glad that there is no one in the desolate area to hear you screaming, as well as the gunshot that went off.
“good girl, good girl.” rafe moans, bucking up into you as your knees stick to the plastic couch material.
“i’m-i can’t.” you moan, letting your head fall as your body pushes forward with every thrust from rafe. “can’t.” you moan again. “feels so good.”
“you gonna cum for me?” rafe questions, his fingers still rapidly rubbing over your clit. you feel his cock swelling inside of you and know he’s not too far away himself.
“yeah.” you nod rapidly. “yeah, so close.” you squeal, feeling lucky that you found someone as perfect as rafe, someone who can make you feel so good.
“gonna cum inside you, pretty girl.” rafe warns shortly before you feel him release inside of you, his cum flooding into your pussy. his orgasm triggers you own, high suddenly ripping through your body as your cunt pulses around rafes cock, milking him even more than he thought possible.
“oh, fuck.” your body quivers when rafe gently pulls out, cum leaking from your cunt and dripping onto the sofa.
“so good, baby.” rafe says, helping you turn over onto your bottom as you slump against the couch, adrenaline from the shooting and ecstacy from the sex quickly draining from your body.
“come here.” you reach up for rafe with the last of your strength, who quickly sinks to his knees and cuddles into your neck, his lips pressing over your neck.
“we gotta take care of this body, baby.” rafe mumbles, tucking himself back into his swimshorts.
“i know, i know.” you sigh, rubbing your fingers over his scalp before allowing him to stand up. you take a moment to breathe while he goes to the captains chair, navigating the boat further into the swamp. you finally get the energy to grab your bikini bottoms at put them back on, the mess of cum now on the seat, but its nothing compared to the mess of blood you know you’ll have to spend hours scrubbing off with bleach.
“here should be good.” rafe says, standing up and grabbing the cop by his arms, dragging him over the edge of the boat with a loud splash. you peak over the edge at the body, both watching as it takes only minutes for an alligator to surface, bumping the cops arm before the gators teeth chomp down.
you gasp, more surprised that you feel nothing seeing the ferocious animal tear into a man that you just murdered.
“come on, baby.” rafe grabs a bucket, knowing it’ll be best to clean as much as you can of the boat before taking it back to the dock.
“wait, rafe.” you grab his arm, looking into his bright blue eyes. “i-i liked it.”
“what?” rafe questions, his eyebrows scrunching together.
“i liked killing him. i would do it again. for you, for us.”
the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “you better stop talking like that before i have to fuck you again.”
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