mdni. this blog is an inclusive and sex-positive space. kink & bdsm are discussed without shame. all of my work will be tagged accordingly. please proceed with caution if any topics are triggering to your reading sensitivities. my kinks & interests do not reflect my actual worldviews. follow along & play pretend with me, or block me. you are responsible for what you read!!!
manipulative shane x gn!doe!reader thoughts… slight nsfw.
shane maguire loves having control over you. he loves talking down at you, making you feel small. helpless. he makes you feel like you need him for everything and that you’d be lost without him. you don’t realize what he’s doing to you until it’s far too late, until you’re so dependent on him that you feel like you can’t live without him even if he manipulated you into being this way.
he loves you like this, sweet and submissive for him, leaning on him for every little thing. he also loves how shy you get around him, looking up at him with glossy eyes and shaking when he so much as tells you that you did a good job. “look at you, shakin’ like a fuckin’ fawn. my stupid lil bambi, huh?” when you nod your head he laughs and pats your ass, earning a yelp from you.
shane never really wanted to commit to anyone and even you knew that. once he started to unknowingly focus on just you and nobody else, it’s like he became addicted. addicted to the way you viewed him so fondly, thought of him so highly, that he wouldn’t ever wanna be with another person. you would do just about anything for him and that fact alone makes the blood rush to his cock.
uh so this started as just a vent about my shitty college campus and the food--
and quickly turned into disgusting smut. matt's a perverted old man, you call him dad, fingering, kind of fauxcest (..oops. i have daddy issues, my bad) and an age gap! (ddba aged matt and a college aged reader)
it's all kind of disgusting and pornagraphic but if you don't like that, don't read this!//
18+
the call matt gets from you comes at seven fifty eight on a thursday night. you call him at least twice a week, sometimes more depending on how things are going. he's gotten good at predicting when you'll call based on your schedule.
usually, you call after class on mondays and thursdays, since by the time you get out, he's already home for the day, but when you have an exam, you'll always call after to check in. you call him less during midterms and finals, but mostly because those are usually followed by breaks and your eye is always on the prize (your boyfriend who's twice your age and miles away.).
so, seven fifty eight is later than you would usually call on a thursday, but he knows you had to go to the library and finish a big term paper. you worked hard this week, and he knows you're excited to finish the week and see him. you have an art class on friday mornings and then one of you will take the train to the other. it's only about two hours. doable, considering how often it crosses your mind that you'd rather be dead than stay on campus all alone.
and matt very much prefers you to be alive. so he brings his laptop and works on the train while he travels. he'd do anything if it meant you didn't feel as lonely as he know you do.
he answers the phone as he's doing the dishes.
"hey, sweetheart. what's going on?" he answers the phone the same way every time you call. he knows you strive with routine. but his question is met with silence. silence that's too long. "baby, are you there?"
another beat of silence.
"hi."
matt's hands still before he turns of the sink, and presses the phone to his ear. he can tell, even from that one syllable, that you're not okay. that something is wrong-- not urgently, not in a dangerous way. but when you're upset or frustrated, or anything, he knows the first thing that goes up in smoke is your verbal communication skills.
"hi," he echos softly, "are you okay?"
another beat of silence.
"uhm," you try to start, "kind of. not really. i just got done with that term paper, and uh, i wanted to go get dinner because i'm really hungry but i checked instagram and people i'm in class with are posting about how they found mold and stuff in the dining hall food, and how it's all old and rotting and that the people who work in the dining hall are working in unsanitary conditions, and i can't-- i can't eat that food, because what if i get really sick and--"
matt can tell you're not breathing right. he can tell by the way you cut yourself off, the way your voice falters. he knows your food insecurity runs deep, that the food you do have access to has always disagreed with your textural issues and your stomach-- and he knows that when you're hungry, you get even more upset even easier.
you're hungry, exhausted, sad, and two hours away. matt itches to get on the train right this instant but he knows you'll probably feel even more upset if he drops everything to come see you, that you're interrupting his life.
"hey," he starts softly, "okay, deep breath. that sounds really frustrating, i'm sorry you feel like this." he starts, and before he can even ask or say more, you're continuing,
"and i miss you." it comes out more as a whimper, and it breaks his heart.
"i miss you too. where are you now?" he wonders.
"uh, walking home from the library."
"okay. i'm going to send you some money, and you're going to order some food from off campus, okay?"
"matt, i can't--"
"yes. you can. you're going accept the money, eat something delicious and i'm going to take a half day tomorrow to come see you, and then we're gonna go to the grocery store together and cook you a few meals, okay?"
you don't hate that plan.
"you don't have to do that.."
"yes, i do. you need to eat, and i know you won't eat anything except chips if i don't cook with you, and we can't have that. you need actual food to help fuel your brain, besides-- what's the point of having all of this lawyer money if i can't spend it on a pretty girl?" he asks rhetorically. "so, i'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"..okay. i love you."
"i love you, too."
-
the next day goes by much slower than you would've liked. you wound up ordering some chinese food from the place a few blocks off campus, staying on the phone with matt until it came before confessing to him that you were so tired that you didn't feel like you could talk. he hung up, and let you enjoy your solitary night.
while you rested, matt began to make a grocery list featuring a few meals he knew you could stomach, foods he knew that you wouldn't mind reheated, foods that would sustain you, at least for now.
he'd do this every week if he had to. and true to his word, when he gets off the train and greets you, the two of you make your way to the grocery store (matt hates the grocery store, but you going hungry is much worse than a short trip to the store.) and begin to follow matt's list. you throw any snacks that look appetizing in the cart as well, at matt's insistence.
and then the two of you spend a few hours in the communal kitchen in the basement of your dorm building.
it's nice, actually. you two laugh and move around each other as matt coaches you through making foods that have been marked as safe. in the end, you have a few meals to get you through the next week-- at which point, you and matt can reassess your needs.
it's a good plan.
you offer to make mac and cheese for the two of you to enjoy while matt finally sits at the small round table in the kitchen. the two of you are making light conversation, talking about grades, asking him about work. it's domestic.
but not very private.
a boy you've seen around your dorm comes in to wash a few dishes. he's nice enough, always saying hi, always smiling at you in the hallways.
he does the same now, and you greet him with a smile.
"making dinner?" he questions as he begins to wash his dishes.
"yeah, mac and cheese." you hum.
'oh, cool." matt's silence doesn't mean much to him, but you notice it. "i saw you guys cooking then i went to do my laundry earlier."
"yeah, the food on campus is really gross right now, so i called and asked for help." you smile.
and then, he completely throws you off.
"well, it's really nice of your dad to come here and help. it's sweet."
you struggle to think of what to say. you know it's an honest mistake, but you also don't want him to feel stupid, nor do you want matt to feel bad for this incredibly glaring example of how people perceive your relationship.
"well he's.. uhm.." you try to search for the words as you cut the heat on your mac and cheese, "i mean. he's great. i have to go now, bye." you blurt out, taking your dinner by the handle and moving to leave the communal kitchen. matt follows wordlessly, a shit eating grin on his face as he grabs a potholder and meets you by the elevator.
he hands you the potholder, not wanting you to burn yourself before you got upstairs.
"shut up." you tell him, and matt laughs.
"i didn't say anything!"
"yeah, but you're thinking so loudly."
ding!
the two of you step inside the elevator.
"and what is it i'm thinking?"
"probably what that kid in the kitchen said." you huff, as matt's fingers run over the buttons of the elevator, finding the braille number of your floor, before pressing it.
"he likes you."
your head snaps up to look at him.
"what?"
"his heartbeat was going crazy." he confesses, "and i could smell his pheromones. you have an admirer."
"thats not-- he was just being friendly." you defend, your face flush.
"no," he shakes his head, "he wasn't." matt turns to face you, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, very gently. "you probably should've told him how good your dad fucks you."
your face burns with embarrassment, and the doors to the elevator opens, and matt strolls right out and towards your door, leaving you in the dust. you scramble to follow him.
"matthew!" you call out to him, following behind. he turns back to you, just for a moment, because he loves you, before leaning against the doorway of your room. you let out a huff and scan your college id, and the door opens with a click.
matt takes the pot from you and walks inside. he places the pot on your desk on the potholder, and you hop onto your bed-- it's an elevated twin xl, as all dorm beds are, so when you sit, you're an inch or two above matt. you're watching as he pulls off the hoodie he wore here, leaving it draped across your desk chair. you're sure it'll become part of your wardrobe.
you shamelessly stare when the tee shirt he wears under it rides up, giving you a great view of his stomach. matt smirks.
you quietly thank your lucky stars that your roommate has gone home for the weekend.
matt walks over to your bed, and puts two hands on either side of you as he leans up so his face is close to his. he smells of cologne, coffee, and a bit of soap. he must've shaved this morning but he has a light five o'clock shadow now.
"why didn't you tell him i wasn't your dad?"
you huff.
"because i didn't want either of you to be embarrassed."
"why would i be embarrassed?"
"i don't know.. maybe because you're twice my age?"
he shrugs.
"have you considered that you didn't want to tell him because you like the idea of me being your dad?" he wonders, leaning in, his lips barely grazing yours.
"no."
your heart skips a beat.
"liar." he grins, and closes the gap, giving you a long, simple kiss. your hands rest on either side of his face as you deepen the kiss, but then he pulls away. "c'mon, be honest with me. what do you think?" he requests.
you roll your eyes.
"i think you're a disgusting, perverted old man who needs to get his mind out of the gutter."
matt grins that devilish smile that landed you here in the first place.
"stop talking dirty to me, baby."
"you're insatiable." you grumble, and matt ignores your words as he leans in to kiss your cheeks, then your jaw, and then your neck.
"you can tell me to stop," he reminds, his fingers resting on your thighs-- well, not resting. they're running up and down your thighs, drawing circles in the fabric of your pants. "but i don't think you want me to, do you?"
your eyes flicker down to the bulge of his jeans.
"bet i can make you cum in your pants like a teenager, old man."
matt bites down on your neck, causing you to gasp. he pulls back so you can see his face again.
"you know i don't tolerate brats, sweetheart." he reminds, "are you gonna be good for me?"
"..yes." you finally manage, and matt rests his forehead against yours as his fingers begin to unbutton your pants, his fingers slipping inside to touch you,
"yes, what?" he prompts, fingers slipping under your panties, causing you to gasp a bit as he begins to rub your clit.
you hate the power he has over you, you hate that your brain is already fuzzy and you hate that you wouldn't trade this feeling for anything, that you wouldn't trade him for anything.
"yes, dad," you mumble and you can feel matt's mouth form into a grin as he begins to kiss you again.
"and you're gonna be good for me while i finger this pretty pussy, right?" he wonders, and your hand goes to his hair, playing with it as he kisses your neck, fingers still rubbing your clit.
"yes, dad," you mumble softly.
"good girl," he mumbles as two fingers move to slip inside you. your free hand grasps his wrist, as you let out a gasp, which matt takes advantage of by catching your mouth with him, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth.
even the way your tongues dance is reflective of your relationship-- matt is steady, confident and playful, while you're unsure, softer, but you have an edge to you, matt recalls, as your tongue brushes against his lips.
when he pulls away, a trail of saliva connects between your lips, and it makes matt chuckle, while you let out a quiet noise of disgust. matt, ever the opportunist, catches the saliva on two fingers of his free hand before sliding them into your mouth. your mouth closes around his fingers, beginning to suck on them obediently.
his fingers move faster inside you, and he adds a third finger as his mouth attacks any inch of skin he can get. your hips are rolling as if you're desperate for it, and he knows you are.
"that's it, baby," he mumbles softly, "i've got you.. fuck, you're so pretty. you take my fingers so well, kiddo, 'm so proud of you." he listens as the praise makes your heartbeat quicken, and he knows no matter how you deny it, you're just as into it as he is.
his fingers move faster, and he can feel your walls clenching around him.
"i can feel you getting close, honey," he hums, "you're gonna cum for me, right, kid?" you let out a whine against his fingers, and his thumb, ring, and pinky finger, the fingers you're not sucking on, grip your jaw tightly, like a vice. "answer me." his voice is firm, and if you want to cum, you know there's no way out of it.
"yes, da--" your voice is muffled by his fingers, and you're cut off by his fingers moving deeper into your mouth, gagging you gently. he stops for a second.
"'m sorry, baby, i didn't catch that."
"yes, dad," you mumble out, and you don't miss the way his smile widens.
"mm, such a good listener.." he hums. "alright, baby, go ahead, cum for dad," he says as he pumps his fingers inside your cunt, listening to the way your breathing becomes heavier as you roll your hips more desperately, not letting up even when you've cum and are riding out your high. you moan around matt's fingers when you cum, who is so hard it's starting to hurt. "doin' okay, sweetheart?" he asks softly, and you nod, babbling nonsense on his fingers. he presses a kiss to your head, waiting for you to come back down to earth.
when he's sure you're okay, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping excess saliva on your lips, which makes you feel even more gross, and yet, at the same time, makes you want him worse. then, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, causing you to whine softly. matt shushes you gently, before licking his fingers clean of your cum.
"we're gonna make you more comfortable, okay?" he asks softly, and you nod, letting him tug off your shirt. then, he pulls off your jeans, before moving to your panties. "can i take these off?" you smile, because he's so nice even though he's so mean.
"mhm.."
he pulls off your underwear before his hands move to your bra, "this too?" you let out another hum, letting him undress you, before he takes a few steps to the left, grabbing his hoodie off the back of your chair. "lift your arms for me, kid." you obey, and the smell of him overwhelms you as he tugs his hoodie onto you. "go ahead and lay down, rest for a minute." he pets your hair, "i'll be right back." he promises.
too desperate for him to fuck you to protest, you lay back in bed, inhaling the sent of him that lingers on his hoodie.
while you do that, matt tucks the long forgotten mac and cheese into the fridge before grabbing you a water and a granola bar. he goes back over to you and offers you the water and snack. you take a few sips of water, but put the granola bar on your bedside table.
while you do that, matt takes his pants and socks off, before, despite the chronic pain that lingers in his joints, hopping onto your bed with the agility of a cat, landing softly. he crawls over your laying form, his hands landing on either side of your head.
he takes one of your hands, brings it to his lips, before kissing your knuckles. then, he brings your hand to the bulge in his boxers.
"d'you feel that kid? how hard you made your dad?"
you let out a whine and cover your face with your arm, cheeks red with embarrassment.
subtop dennis with a small dick :/ dennis whimpering and whining so pathetically as he humps and humps into robby's warm, lube-slick hole, trying desperately to fuck him good.
robby scrolling on his phone, bored, absentminded. he can feel dennis's tears drip onto his chest, his face burrowed there, sobbing out moans against the older man's skin, hips fucking at a jack-rabbit pace that does little for robby.
he knows dennis likes it, the humiliation of it, setting his phone aside and glancing down at the desperate mutt, huffing out a laugh. I can barely feel you, pup. trying so hard to fuck your daddy stupid and all you've managed is to fuck yourself stupid, huh? dumb little thing. just blow your load, puppy, know you're trying sooo hard to hold it back. to, what, please me? cute. cmon, puppyy, just make your little mess.
robby clenches purposefully around the pitiful intrusion of dennis's throbbing dick, lips quirked up in a grin as the boy yelps and whines, hips stuttering as he spurts inside robby's ass, all tremory and weak, still sniffling against robby's skin. robby coos oh, you poor little thing. tried so hard, didn't you, didn't youu? shh, that's okay, you're just a puppy, after all. little puppy with your little cocklet. yeahh, awww, it's okayyy.
dennis shakily pulls out, softening dick slipping from robby's wet hole, the lingering sensitivity making him whimper. he still wants to be good, wants owner to cum, so he shuffles down, blue eyes big and wet and pathetic as he blinks up at robby from between his legs, kisses and nuzzles at robby's thick, pulsing length.
robby sighs, groans, fists dennis's curls. he takes control easily, pressing himself inside den's hot, wet mouth, nestling deep in that tight little throat. he fucks his hips lazily, ignoring the boy's splutters and chokes, knowing he'll adjust eventually. he's familiar enough with being used.
mmm, theeere you go, that's what you're good at, baby, being a nice little set of holes for owner to fuck. don't know why you insist on using that useless little dick, pup... jesus, you make such a good little fleshlight, mmnhh, that's it, fuckin take it... attaboyy, now that's my good puppy.
Why is there a diarrhea parasite outbreak in America?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies cut funding to disease prevention and control.
Why is measles back in America?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies, including RFK Jr, cut vaccine and measles prevention funding and programs.
Why is the New World Screwworm infecting cattle in Texas, when it had previously been eliminated from the area?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies, including Elon Musk, cut USAID funding, which in part worked to monitor and prevent screwworm outbreaks.
Why was there a flu outbreak in our armed forces?
Because Donald Trump and his Republican allies, including Pete Hegseth, cut vaccination requirements for our armed forces, putting all of them at risk alongside our military readiness.
What contributed to the Covid outbreak?
Donald Trump and his Republican allies cut funding to a pandemic prevention program in his first term because Barack Obama had created it.
“America first” sends its regards. Trump voters, please learn your lesson. And if you don’t, it’ll be taught to you again with yet another diarrhea outbreak.
cw: smut, reader is getting head from abbot lmao
jack abbot, who is absolutely insatiable when it comes to giving you head. the man will eat and eat and eat, not bothered one bit when your thighs clamp around his head, so overwhelmed that you're tugging on his hair and very nearly shoving him away.
jack abbot, who loves pleasing you because he likes making you feel good, but also because it makes him feel useful. makes him feel like his body is more than just a body. he's convinced that getting a woman to come from his tongue takes more skill, more perception, more observation and interpretation, and he loves nothing more than being an overachiever. he loves how pliant you get, how breathy your sounds are, how you can never seem to stop your hands from roaming, desperately trying to find something to grab onto, to ground you.
jack abbot, who will nudge at your core through your jeans, pressing his nose against the seam, putting just enough pressure and friction there that you're teetering on the edge. he knows exactly what he's doing, and he has absolutely no plans of taking your pants off until you've orgasmed.
"you wanna come? yeah? you gonna fucking finish on my face through your pants?"
had a dream about this exchange last night, and woke up with that last sentence on my mind. i am not okay!!
explained to an 8 year old that once a fruit is ripe you only have so much time until it rots so you have to eat it soon and she said so i'll never be able to keep it perfect like this forever? no and there are about a million pieces of art for you unrelatedly
