#so i can order on the app as i leave

[safyresky]

i'm not even joking, i'm very upset about the choco milk iced capp thing I am literally replying to the email like HE SAID HE NO PICKLES except it's me saying I SAID CHOCOLATE MILK AT 8AM, JESSICA (literally)

It's not a mean email, I know she's just doing her job and such, like, I get it. customer service. It;s just. IT'S CHOCOLATE MILK, JESSICA

[uncanny-tranny]

Could I ask what difference between transgender and transsexual is? I ask this as a trans person who wants to start using the term "transsexual," but I'm not sure if it denotes anything beyond what I've been using the term "transgender" for (i.e. not aligning with my birth sex/gender identity).

I like transsexual better as it's what our trans-cestors used, and it's a word that is so much "punchier" than transgender is, and I don't feel the same kind of "weird" when the label is applied to me. I'm just worried that these are "fake" reasons or something. Thank you, and sorry!

Honestly, I think there are more similarities between "transsexual" and "transgender" as transsexual as a term was introduced first, and then transgender replaced it

Transsexual has had a history of being used for people who were medically transitioning during a point where transness was heavily pathologized and medicalized... but I personally don't think that cis people should be allowed to sully words like that, and I really don't think that we need to stick by those ridged rules. Isn't the reason transness is so "scary" because we break those "ridged rules" so often? But I digress.

I think some people have different outlooks on their transition, and that's where the transsexual/transgender labels can help. For me, I identify as transsexual because I think it most accurately describes my relationship with my transition.

The most important thing is to not force people in or out of labels they identify with - which is why I want anybody who wants to ID as transsexual do so. So many people ID as such - trans elders, young trans people, people who are medically transitioning, people who aren't. I think a lot of why people are attracted to this word is because of political reclamation, as in reclaiming the word for political reasons, to show the word how viscerally human you are. That's part of the reason I decided to use it, at least.

[milo-is-rambling]

Sometimes this -> :)))) is just not strong enough for what I mean

[moxxpoxx]

i'm going to hit someone with a metal pipe

[mikkeneko]

In various places -- here, the bird app, even YouTube comments -- I keep running into people with some variation of the same question:

"Does Scum Villain have a teacher/student romance?" And every time I want to answer with: No, But Also Yes, But Also Not Really, It's Complicated (And That's On Purpose.)

Which is an answer that's too long to fit in a tweet or a YT comment, but fortunately tumblr has no (effective) post limit! So here I go.

1 - No

In the very straight forward porn cliche sense of "oh but professor, I really ~need~ to pass this class or my life will be ruined, can't I do ~anything~ to get you to change my grade?" *bats lashes* and "Hoho, my pretty young teen student, I've got your good grade right here in my pants, if you ~apply~ yourself..." then no.

No sex or romance between a teacher and their student in the bounds of a teacher-student relationship happens in this book. No deliberate grooming of an underage student on the part of a teacher occurs in this book. No sex or a romance between an adult character and an underage character occurs in this book, nor is the adult 'waiting' for the minor to reach adulthood to initiate one.

2 - But Also Yes

No sex or romance between a teacher and their student in the bounds of that relationship happens in this book. Two people who were formerly in a teacher and student relationship do enter into a sexual and romantic relationship by the end of the book. Also the nature of the society they're in further means that even though they are no longer in the schooling environment, it is socially assumed that the deference owed by a student to their teacher lasts forever, even after the student leaves that environment, and they continue to regard themselves and refer to themselves in those roles even though the teacher no longer strictly speaking has authority over the student.

Also, the student was really hot for his teacher even when he was still a student. (The teacher was oblivious to this fact.)

3 - But Also Not Really

By the time sex and romance is even on the horizon for these characters, their relationship has so drastically changed from that of a "teacher and student" that it is barely recognizeable as such. The power/authority dynamic between a teacher and their student is subsumed pretty much entirely by the facts that:

A. The 'student' has become a medeival fantasy warlord of such unsurpassable magic and might that literally no other person in this world can stand up against him, 'teacher' included, and the 'teacher' is well aware of that.

B. Also, the 'student' is metaphysically endowed (heh) with the Protagonist Halo, a literally active force within the setting they're part of, which means that not only can he not be defeated, he ontologically cannot be denied anything that he desires; what he wants, he gets, and what he doesn't want, cannot be forced on him.

C. ...But also, the teacher in this setting is a metaphysical outsider to the world order the student is part of, which means that he is aware of all of the above, and can and does manipulate it to suit his own agenda, which may or may not align with giving the student what he wants at any point in time. Assuming that the teacher has the correct understanding of what the student wants. (He doesn't.)

D. ........But also also, for all his power, one harsh word from him can destroy him. For all his knowledge, one tear can devastate him. (Which one? Both.)

4 - It's Complicated (On Purpose)

*throws the chalk against the wall*

Between a teacher and their student, who has the power? Between an emperor and a scholar, who has the power? Between a hero and the villain he is predestined to destroy, who has the power? Between a character and the reader who's read ahead to the end of the story, who has the power? Do we find some of these power imbalances more acceptable than others? And if so, why do we?

Trying to track Who Has The Power or Who Has An Unfair Advantage socially, physically, and metaphysically between this particular pair of characters is damn near impossible and that's on purpose.

The Scum Villain's Self Saving System is a lot of things, but one thing that absolutely defines it is that it is a parody. It's a parody and a deconstruction of a lot of things -- the 'stallion' genre, the 'isekai' genre, the 'pay-per-chapter webnovel' genre, the 'gay drama' genre and, most relevant to this conversation, it is a deconstruction of teacher-student romance.

What kind of a teacher-student romance has a clueless, fish-out-of water NEET in the role of the Wise Old Mentor? What kind of a teacher-student romance has a black-hearted, demonic, domineering feudal warlord in the role of the Blushing Virginal Student? What kind of a teacher-student romance has the two principals so close in age -- by the end of the book, they may be as little as a year apart -- that they're more like peers than teacher and student? What kind of audience are we, going into a story like this one and finding ourselves cheering for the teacher to fall in love and lust with his student, only to be disappointed when that doesn't happen because the teacher fails for three books straight to recognize love and lust when it's literally looking him in the face and crying?

Asking "does Scum Villain have a teacher-student romance?" is sort of like asking "does Galaxy Quest have a lot of high science fiction concepts?" No, but also yes, but also not really. It's complicated, and that's on purpose.

[advisorsage]

Well, I'm mad. Like I dressed nice (read: wore a bra, clean undergarments) for this, and it went horribly. I'd be mad at God but I don't worship him and this is just the kind of prank the deity I worship would pull, but I haven't traded my luck for anything recently so he shouldn't be doing this; so I think I'll just be mad at the organizer of the group I was supposed to go to.

[miss-floral-thief]

Getting a ride now hope the crepes aren’t too overpriced

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting a book to end enshittification, because Amazon will not carry it

My next book is The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation: it’s a Big Tech disassembly manual that explains how to disenshittify the web and bring back the old good internet. The hardcover comes from Verso on Sept 5, but the audiobook comes from me — because Amazon refuses to sell my audio:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation

Amazon owns Audible, the monopoly audiobook platform that controls >90% of the audio market. They require mandatory DRM for every book sold, locking those books forever to Amazon’s monopoly platform. If you break up with Amazon, you have to throw away your entire audiobook library.

That’s a hell of a lot of leverage to hand to any company, let alone a rapacious monopoly that ran a program targeting small publishers called “Project Gazelle,” where execs were ordered to attack indie publishers “the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”:

https://www.businessinsider.com/sadistic-amazon-treated-book-sellers-the-way-a-cheetah-would-pursue-a-sickly-gazelle-2013-10

[Image ID: Journalist and novelist Doctorow (Red Team Blues) details a plan for how to break up Big Tech in this impassioned and perceptive manifesto….Doctorow’s sense of urgency is contagious -Publishers Weekly]

I won’t sell my work with DRM, because DRM is key to the enshittification of the internet. Enshittification is why the old, good internet died and became “five giant websites filled with screenshots of the other four” (h/t Tom Eastman). When a tech company can lock in its users and suppliers, it can drain value from both sides, using DRM and other lock-in gimmicks to keep their business even as they grow ever more miserable on the platform.

Here is how platforms die: first, they are good to their users; then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

[Image ID: A brilliant barn burner of a book. Cory is one of the sharpest tech critics, and he shows with fierce clarity how our computational future could be otherwise -Kate Crawford, author of The Atlas of AI”]

The Internet Con isn’t just an analysis of where enshittification comes from: it’s a detailed, shovel-ready policy prescription for halting enshittification, throwing it into reverse and bringing back the old, good internet.

How do we do that? With interoperability: the ability to plug new technology into those crapulent, decaying platform. Interop lets you choose which parts of the service you want and block the parts you don’t (think of how an adblocker lets you take the take-it-or-leave “offer” from a website and reply with “How about nah?”):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

But interop isn’t just about making platforms less terrible — it’s an explosive charge that demolishes walled gardens. With interop, you can leave a social media service, but keep talking to the people who stay. With interop, you can leave your mobile platform, but bring your apps and media with you to a rival’s service. With interop, you can break up with Amazon, and still keep your audiobooks.

So, if interop is so great, why isn’t it everywhere?

Well, it used to be. Interop is how Microsoft became the dominant operating system:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

[Image ID: Nobody gets the internet-both the nuts and bolts that make it hum and the laws that shaped it into the mess it is-quite like Cory, and no one’s better qualified to deliver us a user manual for fixing it. That’s The Internet Con: a rousing, imaginative, and accessible treatise for correcting our curdled online world. If you care about the internet, get ready to dedicate yourself to making interoperability a reality. -Brian Merchant, author of Blood in the Machine]

It’s how Apple saved itself from Microsoft’s vicious campaign to destroy it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

Every tech giant used interop to grow, and then every tech giant promptly turned around and attacked interoperators. Every pirate wants to be an admiral. When Big Tech did it, that was progress; when you do it back to Big Tech, that’s piracy. The tech giants used their monopoly power to make interop without permission illegal, creating a kind of “felony contempt of business model” (h/t Jay Freeman).

The Internet Con describes how this came to pass, but, more importantly, it tells us how to fix it. It lays out how we can combine different kinds of interop requirements (like the EU’s Digital Markets Act and Massachusetts’s Right to Repair law) with protections for reverse-engineering and other guerrilla tactics to create a system that is strong without being brittle, hard to cheat on and easy to enforce.

What’s more, this book explains how to get these policies: what existing legislative, regulatory and judicial powers can be invoked to make them a reality. Because we are living through the Great Enshittification, and crises erupt every ten seconds, and when those crises occur, the “good ideas lying around” can move from the fringes to the center in an eyeblink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/12/only-a-crisis/#lets-gooooo

[Image ID: Thoughtfully written and patiently presented, The Internet Con explains how the promise of a free and open internet was lost to predatory business practices and the rush to commodify every aspect of our lives. An essential read for anyone that wants to understand how we lost control of our digital spaces and infrastructure to Silicon Valley’s tech giants, and how we can start fighting to get it back. -Tim Maughan, author of INFINITE DETAIL]

After all, we’ve known Big Tech was rotten for years, but we had no idea what to do about it. Every time a Big Tech colossus did something ghastly to millions or billions of people, we tried to fix the tech company. There’s no fixing the tech companies. They need to burn. The way to make users safe from Big Tech predators isn’t to make those predators behave better — it’s to evacuate those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/18/urban-wildlife-interface/#combustible-walled-gardens

I’ve been campaigning for human rights in the digital world for more than 20 years; I’ve been EFF’s European Director, representing the public interest at the EU, the UN, Westminster, Ottawa and DC. This is the subject I’ve devoted my life to, and I live my principles. I won’t let my books be sold with DRM, which means that Audible won’t carry my audiobooks. My agent tells me that this decision has cost me enough money to pay off my mortgage and put my kid through college. That’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means that my books aren’t enshittification bait.

But not selling on Audible has another cost, one that’s more important to me: a lot of readers prefer audiobooks and 9 out of 10 of those readers start and end their searches on Audible. When they don’t find an author there, they assume no audiobook exists, period. It got so bad I put up an audiobook on Amazon — me, reading an essay, explaining how Audible rips off writers and readers. It’s called “Why None of My Audiobooks Are For Sale on Audible”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

[Image ID: Doctorow has been thinking longer and smarter than anyone else I know about how we create and exchange value in a digital age. -Douglas Rushkoff, author of Present Shock]

To get my audiobooks into readers’ ears, I pre-sell them on Kickstarter. This has been wildly successful, both financially and as a means of getting other prominent authors to break up with Amazon and use crowdfunding to fill the gap. Writers like Brandon Sanderson are doing heroic work, smashing Amazon’s monopoly:

https://www.brandonsanderson.com/guest-editorial-cory-doctorow-is-a-bestselling-author-but-audible-wont-carry-his-audiobooks/

And to be frank, I love audiobooks, too. I swim every day as physio for a chronic pain condition, and I listen to 2–3 books/month on my underwater MP3 player, disappearing into an imaginary world as I scull back and forth in my public pool. I’m able to get those audiobooks on my MP3 player thanks to Libro.fm, a DRM-free store that supports indie booksellers all over the world:

https://blog.libro.fm/a-qa-with-mark-pearson-libro-fm-ceo-and-co-founder/

Producing my own audiobooks has been a dream. Working with Skyboat Media, I’ve gotten narrators like @wilwheaton​, Amber Benson, @neil-gaiman​ and Stefan Rudnicki for my work:

https://craphound.com/shop/

[Image ID: “This book is the instruction manual Big Tech doesn’t want you to read. It deconstructs their crummy products, undemocratic business models, rigged legal regimes, and lies. Crack this book and help build something better. -Astra Taylor, author of Democracy May Not Exist, but We’ll Miss It When Its Gone”]

But for this title, I decided that I would read it myself. After all, I’ve been podcasting since 2006, reading my own work aloud every week or so, even as I traveled the world and gave thousands of speeches about the subject of this book. I was excited (and a little trepedatious) at the prospect, but how could I pass up a chance to work with director Gabrielle de Cuir, who has directed everyone from Anne Hathaway to LeVar Burton to Eric Idle?

Reader, I fucking nailed it. I went back to those daily recordings fully prepared to hate them, but they were good — even great (especially after my engineer John Taylor Williams mastered them). Listen for yourself!

https://archive.org/details/cory_doctorow_internet_con_chapter_01

I hope you’ll consider backing this Kickstarter. If you’ve ever read my free, open access, CC-licensed blog posts and novels, or listened to my podcasts, or come to one of my talks and wished there was a way to say thank you, this is it. These crowdfunders make my DRM-free publishing program viable, even as audiobooks grow more central to a writer’s income and even as a single company takes over nearly the entire audiobook market.

Backers can choose from the DRM-free audiobook, DRM-free ebook (EPUB and MOBI) and a hardcover — including a signed, personalized option, fulfilled through the great LA indie bookstore Book Soup:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation

What’s more, these ebooks and audiobooks are unlike any you’ll get anywhere else because they are sold without any terms of service or license agreements. As has been the case since time immemorial, when you buy these books, they’re yours, and you are allowed to do anything with them that copyright law permits — give them away, lend them to friends, or simply read them with any technology you choose.

As with my previous Kickstarters, backers can get their audiobooks delivered with an app (from libro.fm) or as a folder of MP3s. That helps people who struggle with “sideloading,” a process that Apple and Google have made progressively harder, even as they force audiobook and ebook sellers to hand over a 30% app tax on every dollar they make:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/red-team-blues-another-audiobook-that-amazon-wont-sell/posts/3788112

Enshittification is rotting every layer of the tech stack: mobile, payments, hosting, social, delivery, playback. Every tech company is pulling the rug out from under us, using the chokepoints they built between audiences and speakers, artists and fans, to pick all of our pockets.

The Internet Con isn’t just a lament for the internet we lost — it’s a plan to get it back. I hope you’ll get a copy and share it with the people you love, even as the tech platforms choke off your communities to pad their quarterly numbers.

Next weekend (Aug 4-6), I'll be in Austin for Armadillocon, a science fiction convention, where I'm the Guest of Honor:

https://armadillocon.org/d45/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/31/seize-the-means-of-computation/#the-internet-con

[Image ID: My forthcoming book 'The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation' in various editions: Verso hardcover, audiobook displayed on a phone, and ebook displayed on an e-ink reader.]

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hi! Can I request 4. Using each other’s phones without supervision with Lando? I think it would be really funny and cute 🧡

Crazy Ex ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

4. using each other's phones without supervision

↺ ln x reader ・❥・

↺ fluff + humour ・❥・

masterlist ☾☼

lando was on stream with max f and ginge. like he usually was. y/n had learned early on in their relationship that if lando was "busy", it either meant that he was on stream, or he was sleeping, or he was quite literally in his race car, ready to go out onto the track.

y/n's finals had just gotten over (thank fuck for that) and now she was catching up on all her unread books with a gin and tonic in her hand. she was dressed comfortably in lando's tshirt and a pair of shorts. he had cuddled her up in a fluffy blanket to make sure that she was comfortable, but she knew he didn't want to be disturbed, and the best way to keep her occupied was to drown her in blankets with a book (or books).

y/n had lost track of time as she read through the gripping, swoon-worthy romance. only when her stomach grumbled did she realise that it was well after eight. digging her phone out from the mess of blankets, y/n looked for their usual order. frowning when she couldn't see the past orders on the app, y/n sighed, leaving her cocoon as she stood up and entered lando's gaming room.

"why do i keep dying?" lando screamed at the screen. y/n held back a laugh, as she was sure his friends were as well.

she looked around the room for his phone. there weren't a lot of places where he could have kept it in the room, so she gently tapped lando on his shoulder and he abruptly stopped screaming as he turned to look at her.

"oh, hey, babe! whatcha doin' here?" lando asked with a huge smile on his face.

y/n smiled at his sudden mood shift and softly said, "i need your phone."

"oh sure, baby, one sec," he said, as he looked around his table and found his table from under the pile of food packets and energy drinks cans.

"there you go, love," he said, as he handed her the phone and then turned back to the game.

y/n pressed a kiss on lando's head before exiting the room. she was already unlocking his phone and opening the delivery app. scrolling through, she found their past orders and quickly ordered food for the two of them.

settling back into her pile of blankets, she had lost the motivation to read further. the only thing going on in her head was food, so instead, she opted to scroll on tiktok. unlocking lando's phone again, she quickly found the app and began scrolling. her food was going to take thirty minutes, and she knew doom scrolling was the best way to pass the time.

max f's texts were ruining her doom scrolling, though. he texted every few seconds, and after she read the first message that only said "muppet", she knew it was going to be about something stupid. she was not bothered enough to move or let lando know. he was on stream anyways.

an hour later, y/n had eaten her dinner, watching a show on lando's phone, and was just beginning to settle into her book again when lando's voice rang through the apartment.

"babe? can you come here please?"

sighing, y/n picked up her tiramisu and walked towards his gaming room. lando smiled and extended his hand towards her, which she gratefully took. pulling her towards him, she settled on his lap, sitting sideways.

lando's hands were gripping her thighs and her waist, making sure that she wouldn't fall.

"what's up?" she asked.

"has max been calling me?" lando asked. he looked amused.

y/n took a bite of her tiramisu. "i think so? he started texting you like a crazy ex partner, and then i started watching a show so your phone switched to dnd,"

"yeah, but my calls would have gone through if his phone was on dnd, y/n!" max's said from the stream.

y/n clicked her tongue, feeding lando a bite of her tiramisu, "no, it didn't. if it had, i would've picked up, max,"

"so, you're telling me that i'm not in lando's list of callers when he's on dnd?" max asked, shocked.

ginge was laughing in the background.

"wait, you can do that?" lando asked.

"lan, you set it up yourself. your parents, your siblings, carlos, oscar, daniel, max verstappen, andrea, will, zak, and i are in that list. you added it yourself." you said, still too focused on your almost finished tiramisu.

max was screaming, and lando was laughing. you hadn't said anything wrong. it was the truth. you were there when lando had set it up.

lando was giving excuses to max, and max was refusing to acknowledge any of them.

"hold on, hold on, guys," ginge said, shutting the two up.

"what?" max was still mad.

"y/n, you had his phone with you for an hour and you didn't do anything?" ginge asked.

"i doom scrolled on tiktok and then watched a show on netflix." you said.

"you know, most girlfriends, when they have their boyfriend's phone unsupervised, they would read through their chats to see if there's a crazy ex or something," max said.

y/n nodded, "he does have a crazy ex. you, max. you blew up his phone more than i ever have. you were already in the stream, why blow up his phone?"

lando laughed, his shrieking laugh that you loved so much. "oh, i love you,"

"i know,"

"i got locked out of the house and i needed lando to get me the spare set of keys!" max exclaimed, laughing.

"keep a rock outside your door with the key. that'll help." she said, deadpanned.

the three boys erupted in laughter again. the chat was going crazy. but, all y/n could think was that her tiramisu was over and she still wanted more.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

hey! im so sorry it took me so much time to write this! my mid semester exams are going on! i hope you like this! i am also drinking a gin and tonic right now, and i also miss my tiramisu. i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[bi-writes]

Your MOB au gives me so many butterflies 🥴 I hear the key to a long and happy marriage is to be with someone you think is funny. How do you think Simon and his wife make each other laugh? I can see them being the couple that gossips while people watching or MOB wrangles Simon in bed to show him funny cat videos on her phone.

mail-order bride

simon likes spending time with you without screens. he does love watching a movie with you, but one of his favorite ways to spend time with you is to open a little closet of board games and play one of them with you. he'll put on a little music, spread out the game, and you usually spend the evening sitting in his lap and playing either on the couch or on the floor using the coffee table or at the dining table.

"simon, what would you do if i was a worm?"

simon raises a brow, fitting a corner piece of the puzzle into place. he snorts a bit.

"wot are y'on, love?"

"i'm serious!" you laugh. "what would you do if i was a worm?"

"step on you, baby. you'd be a fuckin' worm. gross."

you pout a little, dramatically, and simon winks at you.

"olright, love. i'd put ya in a little box and cherish ya foreva. tha' wot y'wanna hear?"

you giggle, settling in his lap, picking up an edge piece and putting it in its spot.

"yeah. that's what i wanna hear."

"simon, look."

you hold out your phone in bed, shoving it in his face. he grunts a little, squinting at the bright screen, and he raises a brow as he watches a compilation of orange cat videos put together. he chuckles a little when he sees it, leaning over the bed and planting a kiss on your cheek. he rolls over onto his side, curling a big arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. he tucks his face over your shoulder, leaning over you, and you spend the better part of an hour giggling to yourself as you show simon the collection of videos on your feed.

the next morning, your phone pings while simon is away on base. you hurry out of the kitchen, wiping your floury hands on the apron you wear before seeing a request for a new follower.

you open the app, raising a brow when you look at the account without a profile picture asking to follow your private account.

pumpkin__eater141 wants to follow you.

you click on the profile, rolling your eyes when you see the only picture on the account a very grainy, filtered photo of two sergeants sticking their tongues out and holding up bunny ears behind each other. in the background, very blurry, you can see a glimpse of a skeleton-bone painted glove holding up a middle finger. the caption reads wankerzzz!!!!

the account has 1 follower (sudz_n_budz141), and it follows none, and you can't help but smile when you see the profile has nothing but a cherry emoji as the description.

you accept the follow request, and you follow them back. the whole day, every so often, you get a new video as a direct message. when you finish with the sourdough and leave it to rise, you start to scroll through the intermittent messages you've already gotten.

more cat videos. crazy dashcam footage with the comment "fuckin' mad." some woman who makes crockpot meals with every kind of bagged cheese you can get at the store on high for five hours.

you can't stop smiling. and when you pull out a pot to make dinner later, you and simon make eye contact before laughing.

"olright, baby, which one ya want?" simon murmurs, nuzzling his mask against your cheek. you giggle, looking up at the display. there's stuffed bears, big squishmallows, pillows. you reach a hand up behind you and caress the back of his neck, biting your lip until you point up at the big cherry squishmallow hanging by the top.

"gotta hit all the glasses to get that one, mate," the attendant says, and you look over your shoulder up at him.

"ooooo...not sure if you can hit all your targets, lieutenant riley?" you ask, and simon snorts, kissing your jaw through the mask before making his way towards the game counter. he picks up the toy rifle, adjusting it in his grip before holding the sight up and taking his stance. you bite your lip watching him. he looks incredibly sexy with that thing in his arms, even if its a fake. it's even sexier hearing the bell ring and watching your husband with terrifying precision knock every glass bottle down. one after the other, each glass falls, and you squeeze your legs together slightly as he goes for a bonus round and knocks them all over again, even quicker.

he turns around when he has your prize in his hands, a big fluffy cherry with a little smile and a little green leaf hat. you squeeze it to your chest before standing on your toes, and simon leans down to peck your lips through the mask. he wraps a big arm around your waist, and when you both pull back, you can't help your big smile, the laughter, that sweet, pretty shine in your eyes.

simon laughs, too.

it's easy when you're this happy.

[weirdmageddon]

my friend came up with some jigsaw shit last night and im speechless

alt text:

the smosh babies challenge

the challenge where you need to watch every episode of smosh babies within 24 hours

**you may**

- watch with friends who are also taking the smosh babies challenge. this may only be done over the phone or a voice call so you dont accidentally divert your attention from smosh babies during the challenge. while there is no limit on how many friends you can take the challenge with, managing your group and ensuring that nobody cheats makes the challenge significantly more difficult and is not recommended. the ideal group is 2-4 people

- take up to 3 breaks of any desired length

- eat while watching

-play with cards during breaks

- be creative during breaks (drawing, writing, singing, etc.)

**you may not**

- call anyone NOT doing the smosh babies challenge with you. the only voices you will hear during the challenge are the voices of those participating, and the voice cast of smosh babies. texting during breaks is still allowed.

- go on post-based social media until every episode has been completed. no tumblr. no twitter. nothing like that. this extends to public discord servers too. the only use case for social media is instant messaging apps to text people directly and stay in contact with the person youre executing the challenge with. if someone sends you a video, youre not allowed to watch it. you also cannot conspire to get your social media fix by asking people to send you screenshots. being in cahoots and trying to outsmart the system is considered cheating.

- be "desynced" with your friend taking the challenge. you must both be watching the same episodes at the same time. preferably using a screen sharing system or watch together app

- consume any sort of media during breaks or during the 24 hours the challenge is in session

- have other tabs or music open. no texting friends while smosh babies is in progress. you are allowed to text people during breaks. the only exception to the music rule is that you are permitted to listen to music during a 1 of your 3 breaks. it is highly recommended that you use your music break when you go to sleep. if you need to leave to go to the store or do something during a break and music is playing, that is ok. however, you are not to have any influence or control over said music. no loopholes

- draw or entertain yourself otherwise while smosh babies is on in the background. **you must pay attention to each and every episode of smosh babies. do not look for any sort of loopholes**

- skip the credits. drawing during the credits IS allowed, but ONLY if youre drawing the smosh babies. they must recognizably be smosh babies. no complicated abstractions or jumps in artistic logic to avoid drawing smosh babies. once the credits are over, you must" stop drawing. i personally recommend you use this time to draw as fast as you possibly can

- watch the episodes out of order

- watch the episodes at a faster speed

every episode must be watched to completion within the 24 hour timeframe

the challenge is officially over once every episode has been watched. your reward is a sinking feeling

and if you cheated, i hope you feel genuinely awful. the smosh babies challenge is a commitment. if you could only win by cheating, i need you to know that it was all worth nothing. im disappointed in you

for the worthy few

get smosh babying

[princealberich]

HOW DO I COMPLAIN TO HOYOVERSE?

It's easy, and there are MULTIPLE things you can do! I recommend doing each item on this list.

1. SIGN & SHARE THE PETITION

The petition will be delivered to the appropriate cultural reps, in order to complain to the CCP about the negative impression this is leaving on Chinese companies. Genshin Impact is highly favoured by the government for the positive press it gives the country, and putting pressure on the 'big daddy' is FAR more likely to make Hoyoverse buckle.

As of right now, the petition has nearly 38k signatures.

2. EMAIL HOYOVERSE

Email them directly at genshin_cs@hoyoverse.com to state how this has affected your desire to continue playing their games.

3. USE THE IN-GAME SURVEY OR FEEDBACK

Genshin Impact has frequent update surveys, and there is a permanent option to give feedback at any time. You can find it in the Paimon Menu.

4. REVIEW BOMB

Rate Hoyoverse's games, particularly Genshin, with one star on the app store. This has already proven in the past to have an effect, when this caused the team to review the anniversary rewards.

Here is a guide on how to do this!

5. POST IN OFFICIAL HOYOVERSE ACCOUNTS' COMMENTS

Do not be silent! Speak up about your displeasure. It's important that these comments outweigh the rest! Show that we are the MAJORITY.

6. SPEAK UP

Use the tags!

#BoycottHYV #WhyAreTheyWhiteHoyo #GenshinImpact #FixNatlan

Be relentless.

FURTHER DETAILS UNDER THE CUT!

WHAT SHOULD I NOT DO?

The following actions should NOT be taken:

DO NOT spend money on Hoyoverse games.

DO NOT sent threats, to voice actors OR customer service staff.

DO NOT engage with trolls or racists. Block and report.

WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT?

It's easy to dismiss this in the face of 'more important' issues in the world at the moment, but Genshin Impact (And by extension, Hoyoverse) is a very influential game and company. It is extremely popular, and directly influences MANY other games and players through this popularity.

This isn't an issue of 'just stop playing'- This is not anger for a game's decisions, it's anger for a precedent. It's a demand that not only should Hoyoverse care about representation, but other, smaller, companies too. If Hoyoverse can get away with it, so can others- But if Hoyoverse is held accountable for their exploitation of culture, then it sets the precedent that other companies have no chance of doing the same.

Like it or not, Hoyoverse has a lot of influence, and the CCP itself values the company for giving China a positive image in other countries. This is bigger than just being mad at character design.

EDIT: It was also pointed out to me that if POC were to simply stop engaging with hostile content, they would have nothing left. 'Just stop playing' isn't fair, plain and simple. POC deserve to play the things that they enjoy WITHOUT being ostracized.

DOES HOYOVERSE LISTEN?

They listen if there's no money lining their pockets, they listen if their reputation is damaged, and they listen if the CCP gets involved. We have direct evidence of this.

Review bombing alone caused Hoyoverse to reconsider the first anniversary rewards.

The CCP forced Hoyoverse to reskin various characters to comply with their laws, which HYV did. (This isn't necessarily a good thing, however, it is still evidence that CCP has influence over them.)

This is by far the largest outcry the company has seen so far, and MANY of HYV's voice actors have spoken out in support for the movement as well. This is not just playerbase complaints, but staff, too.

I recommend following AvenOfStrats on X/Twitter for further updates on the petition's progress, and on other ways to contribute. They also share plenty of resources on why this is important, and guides on how to complain.

[katsu28]

slow down, be here

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: after a long, frustrating day of training, a night in with you is just what lando needs to leave it all in his rearview mirror (2.4k)

warnings: teensy but of swearing, reader is in university but major is unspecified, lando being a certified menace

a/n: i was gonna post this sometime next week but the lando girlies (aka me) need some comfort after today's shitshow. may or may not have been entirely inspired by that video of lando in the white singlet. that look (however fleeting) did things to me okay

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter when you hear Lando’s key in the door, one leg drawn up towards your chest, the other swinging aimlessly as you revise your notes last minute. 

Well, more specifically, when you hear him drop his keys on the floor in search of the correct one right before he inserts it into the lock. You’ve loved him and lived with him long enough to know it’s something he does everyday without fail. Whether it’s because he’s got clumsy hands or he’s Pavloved himself into dropping them at the same spot, you don’t think too much about it. The key drop signals that Lando is home. 

What also signals that he’s home is the way he lets out the strangest sound you’ve ever heard as he lets the door swing shut behind him after he’s let himself in—something between a sigh and a whine mixed with a guttural groan. 

“In here!” You call, taking the cap of your pen out from between your teeth. It only takes a few seconds until Lando emerges from the hallway, socked feet dragging himself towards where you’re sitting with a soft smile aimed at his rumpled state. “Hi, love.” 

He plops down on the stool next to you unceremoniously, hooking his foot under the bar of yours to tug you as close as possible to him on instinct. His chin finds the dip between your neck and shoulder to nestle into, and the deflating sigh he lets out once he’s situated himself to his liking sends a shiver through you. “Hi.” He mumbles, voice muffled. 

“Heard you’ve had quite a day.” You stroke a hand over his curls, smoothing them away from his forehead gently. Oscar had shot you a heads up text a little bit before Lando had arrived, saying that Lando might seem a bit put out when he got home. Something about a handful of tests not going the way they wanted, strategies not working out the way they planned. It sounds like enough to drive anyone crazy, but Lando is the type of person to take things especially hard. 

Lando lets out a vague sound of acknowledgement. You can tell he’s exhausted and frustrated, and you know exactly what he needs to wind down after days like these. “I’ll order takeaway for dinner. You go shower. It’ll probably be here by the time you finish up.” 

He gives a more content sigh this time, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. The tips of his hair tickle your cheek as he does so. “You’re a gem, darling.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You tease, pushing him away playfully. He’s smiling big at you when you meet his gaze, something beyond fondness behind his eyes despite the tiredness as he does. “What?” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too, stinky. Now go. Wash up before I make an executive decision and order sushi.” 

That gets your boyfriend scrambling to his feet fast, aiming a horrified look your way as he books it down the hallway. “You monster!” 

You chuckle quietly, busying yourself with finding Lando’s favorite Italian spot on your delivery app. Soon enough, the food is ordered and all you have to do now is wait.  

Lando reemerges from the bedroom just as you pull open the front door to grab the food from the delivery person. He figures you’ve got it handled by the way you’re chatting nicely with them, so he busies himself with drinks. 

There’s a bottle on top of the fridge that looks vaguely fancy, and though Lando doesn’t know much about wine, Charles had gifted him the bottle a while ago for his birthday. He trusts Charles’ taste. 

He does his best to sound out the French on the label and shrugs, snagging two wine glasses to go along with it. By the time he finishes pouring a generous amount in each glass, you’ve just closed the door, joining him in the kitchen with a massive bag of food. His brows fly into his hairline at the sight. 

You twist your lips to the side in thought, wrinkling your nose as you study the bulging paper bag. “I might’ve ordered too much.” 

“Good thing I always rise to the occasion.” 

You glance up at him, setting it down on the counter in favor of sidling over to where he is, not even fighting the smitten grin stretching your lips as you maneuver yourself between him and the marble. 

His curls are damp, messily towel ruffled and starting to frizz as they air dry. He already looks more at ease, comfier than ever in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a white singlet. You make a mental note to remind him to wear white more. It makes his tan skin glow, and it makes you not want to take your eyes off him. 

Your fingers skate along the exposed skin of his chest, stopping once to push into those dimples in his cheeks that you love so much before moving up to link around the back of his neck. His hands find their way to your waist at the same time, sliding coyly under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin. 

In one fell swoop, you’re up on the counter, Lando nudging his way between your knees. He kisses you languidly, like he has all the time in the world to explore your mouth; long, slow kisses mixed in with brief pecks until you’re all but melting against him. He’s familiar and solid under your touch, all flexing muscle and warm skin as your hands run along his arms. 

After a while, Lando’s focus shifts to trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. On instinct, you tilt your head to give him more space to work and he takes it gladly, focusing on that one spot just below your ear that he knows for a fact works on you every time. 

You sigh appreciatively at the pressure of his lips against your skin, the way his teeth nip at that sweet spot but his tongue sneaks out to soothe the sting just as quick. 

Your fingers dig into his biceps as he continues his venture, but when he starts kissing along your shoulder, you squeeze a little harder. As much as you want to continue this, you remember you’ve got food waiting for both of you. He stops immediately, perfect lips pouted, eyes wide when he comes back up to gauge your reaction. 

“Eat first, kiss later.” You explain, peeling him off you (albeit a bit reluctantly) before hopping off the countertop. He whines something unintelligible as you unload the food, but as soon as you push a container of his favorite pasta towards him, he seems to forget his disappointment. 

The silence as you eat is comfortable, both of you seemingly more hungry than you thought you were as the food and wine begin to disappear. All the while, the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller, until your elbows start to bump each other with each bite you take. 

You’ve mastered the art of enjoying each other’s company without having to say a word. 

“Were you revising earlier? When I came home?” He asks after a while, jabbing his fork in the direction of your notes. A few strands of pasta splatter onto the counter with the action and you tsk, nudging him with your foot. The last thing you want is sauce all over your papers. 

“Yeah, I was. Just some final practicing, see if anything needs tweaking before I have to present my thesis.” 

“I’m sure it’s perfect. You’ve been working on it for ages.” 

You spear a chunk of tomato with your fork, dragging it around in the sauce aimlessly. “I dunno. Everything is there, but it still feels like something’s missing.” 

“Present it to me.” 

“What?” 

“Pretend I’m the university board, or whatever, and present it to me. Maybe you’ll figure out what’s missing if you act like it’s the real thing.” 

“Really? You’d do that for me?” 

Lando scoffs, looking offended. “Baby, I’d do anything for you. Go on, do your little scholar thing for me. I’ll be the best fake board you’ve ever seen.” You gnaw on your lip, unsure. The idea seems silly, but it’ll probably work. “C’mon, bub. You’ve got a genius brain up there in that pretty head of yours, let me see it in action.” 

“Okay. Okay, fine, but you can’t be mean! You have to be nice, ‘cause I’m already freaking the fuck out about having to present next week and I don’t think I can deal with—” 

“First of all, I’m never mean to you. Second of all, get the fuck up there before I take my offer back.” 

You stick your tongue out at Lando whilst you grab your papers at the other end of the counter, feigning swatting him with them as he bounces his way over to the couch. He settles in right smack dab on the middle cushion, grabbing a pillow to hug while you do a quick once over of everything. Then you’re ready. 

You stumble through your introduction a little bit, but the words start flowing a few sentences into the body of your research—days, weeks, months of work having burned them straight into your brain. The longer you talk, the more comfortable you become, which gives you the confidence to set aside your notes for once. Part of you feels like you’re about to clam up and forget everything any second now, but you don’t. You forge on like you were born to. 

All that comes to a halt when you hasten a glance over at Lando, who’s staring at you without a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of his, smiling goofily at you. 

“Lando!” You whine, pouting. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?” 

Lando blinks a few times like he’s coming back down to Earth, letting a sheepish grin creep its way across his face. “Not really.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’m sorry! You just look really pretty when you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s hard to focus on words when I look at you.” 

Well, you can’t exactly be mad at him when he’s sweet like that. Besides, you didn’t think he’d understand half of what you were saying anyways, and you’ve found the answer to your problems. Nothing was missing. Lando was right, you’re fully prepared for your thesis presentation. You just needed to get your nerves out of the way. 

“Worst fake board ever.” You huff. 

“But I just said you look pretty!” 

You prop a hand on your hip. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“Oh yeah? Nowhere, really?” He rises from his seat, creeping towards you with that glint in his eyes you know far too well. You know what he’s about to do, and you’re about ready to make a run for it. 

He bridges the gap between the two of you faster than you think possible, catching you around the waist right before you can make your great escape down the hallway, hoisting you off your feet with ease despite your wriggling around like a fish out of water, and hauling you over to the couch. He tosses you over the back of it just as easily, following suit before you can scramble away. 

Realistically, you should've anticipated the whip fast reflexes of a professional racing driver. Having a faster reaction time than the average person is part of the job description. 

“Lando, no!!!” You squeal, already breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

“Maybe flattery won’t get me anywhere, but I know what might!” He pins you down against the cushions with your knees clamped between his own as he digs his fingers into your sides viciously, ignoring your pleas in favor of grinning wickedly. 

“I give up! I give up, please—” You gasp, squirming under his relentless torture. One of his hands comes up to pin both your wrists down easily, probably so you don't punch him in the face trying to escape. (You’ve done it once before, purely by accident, but Lando’s never let you forget it.) 

“Say that you love me.” 

“You already know I do!” 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He insists, jabbing you in the side threateningly. 

You shake your head frantically. You’re near tears at this point, stomach hurting from laughing so much. There’s no point in dragging it out any longer, especially when sweet, sweet freedom is as easy as telling the love of your life that you love him. “I love you!” 

“What was that?” He tilts his head, brows raising expectantly. 

“I love you, Lando Norris.” You repeat, as steady as you can despite your breathlessness. That seems to satisfy him. 

He gives it up entirely, wedging himself between you and the back of the couch, making himself comfortable as you try to catch your breath. You roll over onto your side so you’re facing him, allowing him more space to nuzzle against you. “You’re a dickhead.” 

“I’m your dickhead, and you love me.” He replies smugly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms worm their way underneath you and link up behind your back, legs tangling with yours. At this point, you’re not sure where you end and he begins, which is just the way Lando always likes it. 

“Against my better nature, I do.” You sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. He hums sleepily, exhaling in deep comfort. “I’m sorry you had a rough go of it today.”

“S’fine. Nothing you’ve got to be sorry about. You’ve already made it better.” He mumbles. He already sounds like he's about to drift off.

“D’you want to talk about it?” 

Lando lifts his head to look up at you, blinking slowly. He offers you a small smile. “Not really. Just wanna lay here with you and forget about it all.” 

“Okay.” You say softly. 

You might not be able to help him with everything in life, but this, you can do. You thread one hand through his hair, smoothing through his curls in that one way you know he loves. Your other hand comes up around his back, fingers scratching a gentle path up and down his spine. 

If Lando was a cat, he’d be purring right now. 

Instead he opts for an appreciative groan, pushing his nose back into the warm nook he’d created. His lips press against your skin—once, twice, a third time for good measure. “Thank you.” 

Whether he’s thanking you for scratching his back or for just being here for him on the days he feels like he’s not at his best, you’re not sure, but either way you give him a tight squeeze and another kiss in lieu of a response. 

You’ll do anything if it means making sure he knows you’ve always got him. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[milo-is-rambling]

I LOVE YOU PAST MILO -current Milo nauseas head in a sparkling clean toilet I cleaned literally a half hour ago and then got too high while celebrating how clean it looked and feel sick now😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 3 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji, Hanni Pham, Danielle Marsh

Length: 4606 words

Tags: Daddy kink, anal galore, blowjob, face fuck, blindfolded, 4some, pearly gates, spitting, spanking, cursing, humiliation, missionary anal, analpie, ass eating, rimming

TW: kinda rough, pure, stupid smut, ass eating, eating cum out of ass

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: the most likely final part of the On her series. This fic is very mindless lmao. Important announcement at the end.)

“Yes, Daddy, that feels so good!”

Hanni’s enthusiasm is almost limitless. No matter how often you’ve ordered her to your office or your apartment or some secluded bed and breakfast, she never let you down. No, the only thing ‘down’ is the momentum of her hips whenever she rides you on the couch, her beautiful ass turned towards you. She loves to make it wiggle when your cock fills her cunt.

You take delight in such a sight and give her the good-girl-spanks she deserves. Hanni craves them as much as she craves your eyes, seeing nothing but love in hers. There is nothing stopping her from leaving, you never demanded the same things from her then you did from Minji. But where Minji lacks endless love and desire for you, Hanni fills these gaps and then some. 

“Oh my God, Daddy, you-you’re gonna make me cum again!” Hanni’s throat is sore from her moans and screams (and the rough face fuck you gave her earlier). “I-I can’t hold it!”

“Why would you hold it?” you ask her and pull her back against your bare chest. “Ruin yourself all over me, you slut.”

You give her thrusts, quick, not too strong and that is all she needs. Her effort was remarkable but in the end she wants you to fuck her over the edge. Hanni’s pussy convulses around your cock, tries to milk it and you are about to give in when your cell phone rings. 

“Fuck,” you curse and pick it up while dropping a powerless Hanni to the carpet floor. “Who is this?”

“Yo, have you turned on the TV?” the person on the other end, some former manager of a group you were interested in, asks. “Today are the MAMA awards.”

“And? They’ve been the same for basically forever. And you know I don’t have any control over—”

“Oh no, another group has won.” You can hear the smirk on his lips. “I bet you’ve heard the song and the group—some of them are under your wings, I assume?”

For a moment you are confused, then it dawns on you brightly. “You could say that,” you respond calmly and look at one of those who are under your wings—though under your cock fits better. “Let me be honest, I did not think that they would make it this far.”

“Their success is unheard of, they must have paid you really well,” he continues knowingly. The kind of business you do is in a paradoxical state of infamously known and also a dark secret in the industry. It’s a tightly knit conspiracy where every wrong step, every wrong turn can cost you basically everything. 

“Maybe they have to offer me something new, a MAMA win does not come around very often.”

#

“Congratulations on your win. I bet this is part of every trainee's dream” Sent by you

“Thank you, Daddy~ It definitely is, but I’m certain we couldn’t have done it without you “ Sent by Hanni

You smirk and scroll through your gallery. There is a picture you’ve saved, a picture of something you want. Some people screenshot what they want from social media apps or shopping sites—you will do the same right now, though your picture does not include a product one can buy. 

“I found this picture of you and one of your friends. She is very attractive.” Sent by you

“I know, Danielle ist so damn pretty <3” Sent by Hanni

“Her prettiness equals probably two MAMA awards…” Sent by you

That should do it. Hanni is probably stunned right now. If Danielle is next to her, she probably looks at her—your terrible influence deeply rooted in Hanni’s mind—and she will see what you see: another object for your desire, another girl you can train to make your personal fuck doll, another idol sold by her bandmate. Unlike Minji, Hanni might actually like the idea. 

You wait patiently as she ponders, typing, then deleting message after message until she settles for a simple text that makes this unhinged, lustful being inside you lose any and all control.

“Daddy deserves his reward as soon as possible. We need just 20 to 30 minutes~” Sent by Hanni

With a victorious sigh, you throw away your smartphone. It audibly cracks on the floor, but you don’t give a fuck. Phones can be bought again, but what you will get, no one can buy. These next twenty minutes will feel like hours and every second beyond that will make you lose your mind. Atleast, that is what you would have to assume if it weren’t for someone suddenly sneaking into your apartment. 

Timid, quiet steps. The person is not wearing shoes. You hear the door fall shut, gently and suddenly, she stands in your doorframe. As if your life was a script, written by a higher being which, for some reason, likes your story to be filled with as much sexual fulfillment as possible, Minji has decided to come visit you. 

“Hello, Daddy,” she coos, catching your gaze with the way she presses her frame against the door frame. Her two piece outfit with all its white frays perfectly merges with said door frame, the warm light making it look like she could disappear in your walls. “I’m sorry for not announcing myself, but may I come in?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to act not-too-happy about her convenient timing. “It’s nice to see you barefooted and in this pretty outfit—but you need to approach the right way.”

“Of course, Daddy.”

Minji gets on her knees. She begins to crawl over your wooden floor and seeing her eager eyes has you riled up. Instead of waiting for her to unbuckle your belt, you open it on your own and let your pants drop when her face reaches your crotch. Minji moans gently and presses her face against the massive bulge in your boxers. She’s not really teasing you. It’s more of a ceremony, because Minji quickly proceeds to pull down your boxers with nothing but her teeth.

“Daddy, it’s so big and beautiful,” Minji says in all honesty, her idol persona washed away by her own horniness. “May I service you with my mouth?”

“Stick out your tongue,” you order and Minji follows. You slap your tip on the exposed wet muscle and watch her faintly smile at how excited you seem. “Looks really good, how could I say no?”

No warning and just a moment later, you are buried to the hilt in Minji’s throat. She gags violently, her head tilted backwards and her wide eyes quickly release a torrent of tears. You don’t comment on it, watch on with a cold, resting bitch face and begin to fuck her face roughly. It’s hard thrust after hard thrust; not too fast though, because you want to see the submission steadily grow in her eyes.

“Fucking good, so much better since you started taking my cock like a premium whore,” you hiss and reach for the sides of her head. She locks eyes with you and through a sea of tears, you can see that she is happy. Still happy. “But it won’t be enough. I need more, another hole, and I’m not talking about your pussy. I know that you are dripping from there, but I’m going to split you open somewhere else.”

You pull out and watch Minji try to catch her breath, shocked, weak; she gets no time to recover however. You grab her hair and slide back into her not-awaiting, but slave-like throat. She takes your pounding even as it forcefully removes her faint mascara and leaves her a drooling mess. It’s Minji’s masterclass in deepthroats—a fitting end, because you will fuck something else today.

After many harsh thrusts, too many to count, but enough to have Minji at your complete mercy, you pull out. She bends over, tries to keep her composure and breathe, but you won’t allow this. She has to look at you and understand what you desire. You slap her face and spit at it. “Don’t avoid me, look at me!” you shout and Minji is tiny. A kneeling tiny bitch who follows your commands. “I will fuck your ass, do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Minji cries and puts her forehead to the floor. “Tha-Thank you for the award, Ma-Master. Please, a-abuse my ass.”

Not that it tugs at your heartstrings or anything—but instead of just fucking her in this state of complete devastation, you help her up, to her feet and cup her cheek firmly… almost gently. Minji still sobs, barely able to look up at you.

“You are here to thank me with your ass? That is actually adorable and very thoughtful of you.”

“I-I thought, because Master hasn’t fucked me th-there yet, and because he probably did with Hanni already, I—”

“Oh, I understand, but Minji—” You lean down to her ear and whisper, while your hand travels down her bare midriff into the dress and finds her folds, soaked in arousal. “—we are already past the Master stage. And you underestimate my greed, my desire for more, infinitely more. Don’t worry about that though. Get on the couch and show me your cute little asshole.”

“O-okay. Thank you, Daddy.”

As Minji lays down and wiggles off the bottom part of her dress, you get a bottle of water-like lube from a drawer in the living room table. These bottles are always nearby because situations like this have occurred quite a few times in your life. More than you can count, enough to make you the biggest villain for every girl group fan.

When you pour the lube on your cock, you inspect Minji and her cute posture. She is on her back, legs spread and in the air, while her fingers keep her butt cheeks apart. Her ring twitches and it twitches more when you rub lube all over it. Minji mewls, and mewls some more when you push a finger past the first tightness to lube the inside as well.

“You are a bit stiff, you need to loosen up or else it will hurt.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?” Minji asks in all honesty. “I’m okay with Daddy hurting me, as long as he feels good.”

You have to hold back or else you would’ve laughed at her innocent expression and the confused fear in her orbs. You align your cock with her ass, not to immediately force yourself inside that hot, tight hole, but to teach Minji how to take you well.

“If you relax, Minji, I promise it will feel good. Weird at first, probably too big, but the more you loosen up and let your asshole become a source for pleasure, it will feel great.”

“Hanni probably already knows this,” Minji mumbles in shame. You quickly reach for her jaw and put a chaste kiss on her lips.

“To be honest, I haven’t even fucked her ass before, so stop worrying. Take deep breaths and stay re-laxed.” With those final words, you wait for Minji to follow your instructions—breathe in; breathe out—before you push your cock into her brown hole.

“Oh Daddy, fuck,” Minji groans, right into your face and you love how her hands start to hold onto your back, your arms as you push more cock into her. “You are so, so big!”

“There is still more, but you are doing a great job, Minji,” you respond calmly, lifting up her ass a bit to penetrate her deeper. “Soon, you’ll love this more than anything.”

“Daddy!” Your cock is fully inside her and Minji seems to go crazy, her head thrown back into the couch, her mouth releasing loud moans rapidly. Her anal cavity squeezes you tightly, tries to wring you and it’s insanely impressive. She takes you fully on the first go and slowly catches herself. “I-it feels weird but soooo—”

“Good, right? I can feel you relax, so I will start to fuck you for real now. Congratulations, you’re not a butt virgin anymore!”

Minji weakly laughs and then gasps when you drag your cock mostly out of her ass just to push it back in, deep, to the fucking hilt. You watch as her eyes open wide, then narrow, then close, all in the rhythm of your pumps. Her cunt drips more juice too, she cannot deny the pleasure.

“Daddy, why, why do you feel so good?” Minji screams. “Why, your cock—you made me your butt slut!”

“You’re a natural at this, most of your kind quickly become addicted.”

“Make me addicted, Daddy! Please, use this hole and make me—”

You reach underneath her frayed top and pinch a hard nipple, while your teeth go for her lower lip. You can feel her insides combust, her ass clenching around your cock, her pussy convulsing around nothing, yet it is enough to make her cum. Minji is orgasming from just her ass, but she tries to hide it. 

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” you laugh and begin to fuck Minji harder, her ankles in your firm hands. “Cum with your ass and be mine forever. You cannot escape anyways, so why would you want to? Don’t run from the pleasure, because I won’t stop fucking you until—”

Suddenly, you hear a key in the lock of your front door and someone whispering. Then quiet steps. Minji grows tense but you just smile at her, reassure her that there is nothing to be scared off. “Oh, you know these two, don’t worry~” 

“Huh?”

You look up and spot the first girl, Hanni, who smirks when she sees you. She puts a finger to her luscious lips and winks. You get her idea and press your palm on Minji’s mouth to keep her quiet while you slowly thrust into her tight ass. The young girl is visibly shocked that you just continue, but her shock grows even more when she spots the second girl.

“Unnie, this is weird. How long do I have to wear this blindfold?”

“Just a little bit longer~ We are almost there, just a few more steps.”

Hanni guides the blind Danielle, a beautiful, skinny girl dressed in what you assume is a stage or award show outfit. Either way you love how exposed her midriff and collarbone are. Danielle’s skin is flawless and her face looks even better than in pictures or videos.

The two get closer. Hanni is now behind the taller girl and guides her by holding her hips. The two seem familiar with this kind of intimacy. You quietly pull out of Minji’s butt and luckily, she stays quiet in this tense situation. 

“Dani, we have arrived,” Hanni giggles and wraps her hands around her friends’ tiny waist. “I have a present for you, but you have to get on your knees and guess what it is~”

“Unnie, if it’s your pussy again—we already did that! And if you want to fuck, you can just ask!”

You raise an eyebrow at Hanni who is clearly nervous and sweating. She got caught fucking with a second member of her group without your permission. You can’t really blame her. You can’t wait to stick your cock into that tight body and fuck Danielle’s mouth with your fingers. But for now, you let Hanni finish her game.

“This time,” she continues and kisses Danielle’s shoulder. “It’s something different. I have found the biggest, most beautiful cock because I know you would want to suck one of those someday.”

Danielle’s pale skin starts to burn with a deep red. All of her blood seems to go to her face. She starts to lose focus and whimpers a bit, especially because Hanni becomes more touchy, hands on her chest, her tummy, her ass.

“H-how did you know, Unnie?”

“You are really, really bad at hiding your dildo’s, Dani. I found like four of them. One still had your saliva around it~”

Danielle puts both hands to her face and lowers it in shame. Everyone in the room can still feel the glow of her blush through her fingers. You stroke your cock once, amused at the situation, but also tired of waiting. Hanni notices and continues her plan quickly.

“Look, Dani, I’ll show you how to do it.” Hanni lowers herself in between your legs. For the first time, you check out her outfit. Odd, you remember it from some performances a few months ago—does it really matter when she immediately goes to suck you, throat you even? “Oh my, it tastes so good! I wonder why that is?”

You point to Minji’s still exposed asshole and Hanni smirks knowingly. Poor Minji did not dare to move a single inch this entire time but now with Hanni’s loud gagging filling the room, she can stop being quiet and move her hands to cover up.

“U-unnie, are you really sucking it?” Danielle asks the obvious, still in disbelief. “Is it a real one, like, are you sucking a boy?”

Hanni pops you free from her perfect lips and makes sure to taste all of the lube and Minji’s ass from your manhood with her tongue. She cleans you passionately, from sac to tip until you finally give her a bit of precum. 

“Dani, he is a man, a Daddy. Trust me, he is very good looking and his cock is even better~” Hanni’s voice is so lewd, it feels cursed with her adorable visuals. You relish in her compliments and brush her black strands back behind her ear. “Kneel next to me and I show you.”

Danielle kneels down, her small frame taking the spot in between your legs next to Hanni. She is still confused though. “But Unnie, how can you show me if I’m not allowed to remove the blindfold?”

Hanni rolls her eyes and without warning, grabs Danielle’s face and pulls her into a kiss. The younger girl flails in surprise, finds hold on your thigh, but somehow she can’t hold onto it for long. Maybe the thought of a stranger really seeing her like this makes her lose grip on the situation—a good thing in your book.

“Ha-Hanni-unnie!” Danielle shrieks when their lips disconnect. “Why, why did that taste so good?” 

“If you want more, you need to suck and clean his cock like I did. Here, open your pretty mouth and be a good girl for Daddy~”

“You say weird stuff—ugh, hng!”

You groan softly when Hanni not-so-softly pushes Danielle’s face down your cock. A new, sensational throat engulfs you. Of course you expected violent gags and tears coming from behind the blindfold, how could you not. Hanni is literally forcing Danielle to deepthroat you for the first time. Her dildo training seems to have paid off however: Danielle is a lot more composed, measured even and makes sure to keep her teeth off of you. 

Soon, she finds her own pace and bops up and down your shaft, using her tongue from time to time without yet knowing where it actually feels good for you. It’s hard for her to learn when she can’t read your facial expression, so she just guesses and sucks and bops her head. It makes it all the more impressive how she can keep up with you and do a better job than Minji did on her first try.

“Hanni-unnie,” Danielle immediately shouts after getting her mouth off of your dick. “That was very mean of you, like, what the—”

You interrupt the young, angry girl by giving her blindfold a tug and watching it fall off of her dazzling, still flushed features. You smirk down at her as she watches up in awe, her eyes inspecting you like you did to her earlier.

“Oh, he-hello, sir,” Danielle says and tries to be formal while your cock is still on her lips. “I’m sorry we just walked into here and… about this.” She points at your hard shaft which you take in your hand and poke against her soft cheek.

“Don’t worry about it, you beautiful thing. In fact, I should be sorry about this right here.” You point next to you, where Minji tries to cover up her pussy. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“You, you had sex with Minji-unnie? Like, i-in her vagina?”

“Oh Dani,” Hanni coos and puts a hand into Danielle’s red top. “You don’t know how good a real cock feels in your pussy. Way better than a dildo.”

“Stop being so lewd, Unnie!”

“But you two are wrong,” you interrupt them and look at Minji, who valiantly fights through her embarrassment. There is nothing to be embarrassed about though; she did great taking your cock in her ass. “We had anal sex just now, and I think I speak for us both when I say that it was awesome.”

Hanni pouts at the thought of not yet having you in her ass while Danielle is both struck by horror and thrill when she cross-eyes your cock and then switches to look at Minji’s butt, which you uncover for her.

“Minji-unnie, was it really that good?” Danielle asks with wide open eyes.

“Yeah, how was it?” Hanni adds and involuntarily adds pressure for the leader to answer.

“I-it was… the best.”

A moment of silence and awkwardness for Minji until Danielle jumps up and pulls down her black skirt. Another unexpected turn, she seems to be ready to go asap. “Sir, can you—would you have sex with my butt too?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you try to play it cool and reach for the bottle of lube. “Turn around, we need to get you ready.”

“Here, let me help you, Daddy.” Hanni gets a hold of Dani’s ass as soon as she spins around and spreads the cheeks apart. Dani gasps at first, but then giggles when she finds her Unnie to be already naked. She starts to kiss Hanni’s skin while you put the nozzle to her beautiful, clean ring and push lube inside. Danielle shudders while Hanni looks on with jealousy. It will be her turn soon enough though. 

“You have a gorgeous body, Dani,” you compliment her before grabbing her waist and pulling her onto you. “You are so light, I think I need to try a new position with you. Are you down for that?”

“Sir, I—if it’s not too crazy, I think I can do it. But remember, this is my first time.”

“You have to be relaxed, Dani,” Minji suddenly adds and stands next to her, not covering her private parts anymore. “If you are tense, it’s going to hurt—when you are loose however, Daddy can fuck you so good, it will feel like heaven.”

“O-okay then, I think I’m ready.”

You nod and lay down on the couch, Danielle on top of you. She rests her back on your strong chest and your hard cock searches for her tight asshole. Luckily, Hanni is there to help align your tip with it (not before sucking it of course). Dani takes deep breaths instinctively and with your primal instinct to fuck, your cockhead disappears in her ass.

“Oh fuck, that looks so hot!” Hanni coos.

“Stop staring, please,” Danielle whimpers and you feel her incredible texture convulse around your aroused phallus. No, she definitely gets turned on by this, so you’ll make it even better.

“Hanni, keep staring,” you order. “Oh, and make your mouth useful on my ass. See it as punishment for having sex with Dani without my permission.”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m sorry Daddy.”

“Sir, isn’t this too lewd?” Dani asks while you begin to rock her thin body up and down your cock like it’s a fleshlight. 

“Minji, how about you lick Danielle’s pussy. Make yourself familiar with it.”

“Yes, Daddy, she tastes really sweet and is quite… wet.” Minji smiles and you get what she means. Her mouth is promptly on Dani’s clit and now the two are moaning in unison. Your thrusts into Dani’s ass become harder.

“Oh dang, so much in my a-a—, I mean butt,” she whispers and you look at her face. “Sir, you are one lewd bast— person. Making young girls do this stuff. Aren’t you a bit too old for us?”

“Maybe that is why they call me Daddy,” you respond, the humor lost because your expression remains stern even through the pleasure. “Don’t hold back, curse as much as you want. This is no tv show or live stage. Get used to this cock, because I won’t stop after this one time.”

“I won’t either, you fucking bastard.”

Your lips meet in a haze, then you decide to give it your all. You fuck Dani hard, force more and more curse words out of her good-girl-mouth. Her cunt is forced against Minji’s eager lips, while you make sure Hanni is covered in your musk—though she kinda seems to enjoy serving your ass. Even after all this, she might still be the best baby girl out of this trio.

“Yes, fuck, yes, you fill my tiny ass so good! Fuck me with your big fat cock, give me that cock, open me so wide until I—”

“You horny bitch.” You yank down her top to reveal tiny tits, jiggling a little at your every thrust. Her skin is glowing, she is in complete heat. Danielle is a nymph with a tight ass and a pussy so wet, she can save someone from dehydration. You want to test your theory, if her orgasm is as explosive as you want it to be.

“My Lord, I’m so going to fucking cum, I will cum! Make me squirt, make me fucking, ahh!”

Like a fountain, Danielle’s juices paint Minji’s face, cover her hair and even Hanni below. She also doesn’t stop, not with your endless thrust into her ass. She is like an infinite source, eventually filling Minji’s mouth and marking Hanni as a dirty, rimming whore covered in girl cum.

“That was so good, Sir—”

“We are not yet done!” You squeeze Dani to your chest so she cannot escape and start to violate her ass some more, to the point your entire cock stretches her in all directions. For some reason, you feel like you could breed this hole for two eternities, but for now, one massive load has to be enough. 

With your final, deepest of thrusts, you force all of your seed into Danielle’s tight ass-pussy, fill it up and make sure she is tight enough to keep it inside for now. Pulling out is hard but rewarding, and hearing, feeling her pant on top of you is heavenly. 

“It’s so deep in me, fuck,” she moans and you bite her cheek. 

“Push it out of your slutty hole, you naughty bitch. 

“Hanni, Minji! Get ready for your daily load!”

The two girls are under our spell, not questioning anything you say and stick out their tongue underneath Danielle’s butthole. You pull back her heels to give them more space and with an blissful, erotic expression, Dani lets her ass be gaped. Your creamy white cum oozes out of her and Minji and Hanni greedily eat it all up, even getting their tongues into the completely overstimulated girl and cleaning her butthole.

“Shit, this is so lewd,” Dani whimpers and you put a hand around her throat.

“After I fuck Hanni’s ass in a rough Doggy, my heel on her face because I know she loves that, you will eat my cum out of her ass too. And don’t lie; I know you will like it.”

Danielle grins, licking her lips in excitement. “You are such a nasty bastard, Daddy.”

(A/N2: here is the very short version, I'll release a longer announcement later this week probably. I have decided to quit for a while, maybe forever but that is still in the stars. I can still write and I kinda like it, but this endless cycle of horniness and unhinged smut is killing me. I also need to focus on life/studies. More on that later this week. Love you all, peace out.)

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 1

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks.  CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present. 

This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.

Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.

This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things. 

But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple. 

“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas. 

She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.” 

You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things. 

“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat. 

Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.” 

“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!” 

“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.” 

She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.” 

She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”

She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.

She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."

You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.

The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean. 

Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.

The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”

You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional. 

To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.

As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”

Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.” 

She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.

You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.

When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.

“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.” 

“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough. 

“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.

“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles. 

“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.” 

You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole. 

After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.

As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.

It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror. 

But not JM. 

No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility. 

You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.

Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February. 

Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:

Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.

The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.

You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home. 

You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.  

Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”

The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.

One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’. 

He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that. 

“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.

The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.

Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.

“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'. 

You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome. 

“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out. 

“I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.

“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?” 

You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head. 

“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.” 

He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.

What the fuck? 

It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed? 

Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman. 

Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone. 

She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her. 

He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip. 

JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass. 

He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft. 

You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“

JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?” 

You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you. 

“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him. 

He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.” 

He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.” 

He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning. 

A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.

After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.

‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’

At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills. 

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