#is implied to have one night stands with random women

[carpp]

watching vampire in the garden again and the way the elder vampires feel about fine vs the rest of vampire society is so funny to me

[heartthrobin]

catch me if you can

hobie brown x female!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, a questionable attempt at british slang, Miles' pov (it makes sense i promise), established relationship, Miles is a little baby boy angel, implied chubby/thick reader, Miles' 'jealous of Hobie' dynamic

an: this idea popped into my brain as i was trying to sleep last night so here it is :) it's actually funny cause i'm a hobie brown girl first and human second but have been working on so much miguel content. go figure. remember to reblog and comment to support your favourite writers :) THIS IS A REPOST! i woke up this morning and the original post literally disappeared from my page :( sorry y'all

summary: you and Hobie are absolutely incorrigible.

Miles didn't like the sound of Hobie Brown.

and now that he's faced with the man in question, he doesn't particularly like the sight of him either.

the spider-society foyer is a menagerie of characters, different suits and capes and hairstyles and --horses? but Miles can't move his line of sight off Hobie's back where he just bumped his too tall frame against Gwen's much shorter one.

she stumbles sideways and laughs, and Miles wants to throw a fit right there.

Hobie stops walking. his figure tightens and his shoulders draw up.

Miles frowns in confusion and follows his gaze.

under the archway of the door towards where he assumes is this Tio Miguel's office stands some spider-women, three in varying outfits.

there's one in a forest green suit, your eyes have found Hobie's. they're wide, round in something Miles can place most akin to fear.

you're beautiful, he can tell that easily: all full-bodied around the edges and soft in the face.

you surprise him when you turn on your heel, running out only three wide steps before spitting out a web onto the nearest ledge of those that lingered above his head and hoisting yourself up.

the green suit blurs, swinging over hundreds of spider-people and you glance back over your shoulder in panic.

more surprising than that, Miles finds that Hobie is chasing you.

his long thin legs stride down the walkway, abandoning Gwen when he too sends a thick white web at a tall pillar and flies across the foyer. he sticks to another dais and climbs wildly along walls after your escaping figure.

Miles jaw is loose, face dripping in concern.

somewhere behind him Jessica sighs. "those two are incorrigible."

his head is flicking back and forth between his companions, unsure if he's the only one who can see what's unfolding. your figure is climbing desperately up the side of the wide window, you're fast but Hobie is gaining ground.

Gwen and Pavitr are walking still ahead of him, arms swinging by their sides. he steps quickly, eyes never leaving the chase in the air.

"is nobody seeing this?" Miles' hands motion up to the air, they're frantic. "Hobie is chasing s-some ... poor woman!"

glancing back over her shoulder, Gwen's eyes finding the two colourful blurs, she draws to a halt. "i guess we should wait for them. they're so annoying sometimes."

Pavitr's head lolls to the side, an endeared expression twisting into his face. "i think they're adorable."

your grunts can still be heard echoing down the chamber, Hobie's too. you yelp as Hobie just misses your leg, escaping his clutch by swinging low over a random spider's head. the spider grumbles up at you.

"he's ..." Miles shakes his head, fingertips twitching against his web shooter. "is nobody gonna help her? i-i'm gonna help--"

"help?" Gwen and Pavitr were looking at him like he'd grown a second head.

there's a sharp shriek from above, he finds you mid-air. a wide web has enclosed over your shoulders, locking your arms against your side and you're hoisted back against Hobie where he's perched along a wall.

Miles hand jumps up to web his way to you when Gwen's hand closes over his wrist. she just shakes her head at him. "chill, Miles."

he looks back up.

you crash against Hobie's chest with enough force to jostle him off the wall. your joined figures slide down the side of the wall to land a few feet from where Miles stands.

your shoulders are shaking. if you weren't so low on the ground, he might not have recognised that you were ... laughing?

"got'cha, luv."

Hobie's forehead meets yours gently. you wriggle in the webbing that's bound you.

"took you longer than this morning." your voice crumbles out between giggles.

a ring-clad hand finds your chin, tilting your face against his. you press up on tippy-toes, teetering like you're drunk with his kiss. Hobie's hand is creeping over your waist and dipping you backwards under the influence of his height.

"i mean, we've barely been gone a couple hours." Gwen mutters at the sight. Pavitr is holding his hands up to his chest and lets out a soft "they're so cute."

confusion is still tugging on Miles' mind but it's drowned by the waves of relief coursing like coffee down his gullet and warming his stomach.

"they ... they do this often?" he asks tentatively.

"every damn day."

his gaze flickers between Hobie and Gwen. "so they're ... dating?"

Pavitr nods. "Hobie doesn't like labels. but pretty much."

"so," he is feigning nonchalance as far as he can carry it. he speaks at Gwen. "you and him ... you're not--?"

she's affronted. "me and Hobie?"

Pavitr is laughing.

"no!" she clarifies, clearly put out. "that's so weird ..."

Miles is practically blind with relief.

you've clearly been detangled from Hobie's webs when you bounce over to where Miles is standing amongst the others.

"Gwendoline!" your voice is light and animated, you're panting slightly from your chase.

Gwen grumbles like she hates the name, but smiles sideways under the weight of your hand ruffling her hair. you bump into Pavitr's side and he greets too.

they smile like they love you.

your eyes find him. "you must be Miles!"

he discovers you're as keen on physical touch as your boyfriend, hoisting him tightly against your chest before pulling back: holding him at arm's length to examine him.

"you're taller than I thought you'd be."

"you should see mans fly, babe," Hobie's hands slink into his jacket pockets. Miles thinks he's referring to him. "wicked with the webs, i tell ya'."

he blushes at the compliment. you're smiling at him like you're proud. "oh, yeah? maybe boss will put us on a mission together and i can check these moves, hey Morales?"

Miles nods. "sure."

you let go of his shoulders, eyes finding your boyfriend's.

skipping ahead of the kids, your hand slips into Hobie's and he leans down to kiss your temple. "how was your day, rockstar?" he hears you ask.

Gwen slides in beside Miles. they start walking again and she smiles at him.

he returns it. ahead of him, you're teetering on your toes so you're walking completely pressed against the side of your boyfriend.

Miles finds that maybe he doesn't dislike Hobie as much as he thought.

-

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[yunhofications]

rock with you - j.yh

pairings: dom!yunho x switch!fem reader

chapters: 1/2

synopsis: yunho’s a rockstar and doesn’t care about anyone but himself, at all. he loves the attention he recieves, but the only attention that really matters to him is from the girl who can’t seem to stand him at all. well, thats what she tells herself anyway.

warnings/tags: yunho’s kind of a dick, but not really, size kink, dumbification, choking, man handling, biting/marking, praise. hes quite a mean n rough dom, fingering, cheating implied (not by yunho), pet names, drinking. no actual sex in this part

word count: 3.7k

authors note: hi! this is my first ever suggestive fic, i originally was only going to do one part but im going to do two now, if this chapter does well :] i hope you all like it, im new at writing these things!

it was a Sunday night, 9:54 pm to be exact. The bar wasn’t crazy busy considering most people had work the next day and normal individuals wouldn’t spend their free night before work drinking their sorrows away in a lousy run down bar. Not that it phased you in the slightest, you brushed off the judgmental stares and glares from the bartender since you were probably on your 20th shot and you had the tiniest little body. Who the fuck is fitting in that much alcohol without getting drunk? Well, you were pretty tipsy and your eyes were slowly giving out, as well as your entire body, about to hit your head against the wooden bar counter before a hand slips in and stops you from getting a concussion.

You don’t give it much thought, perhaps it was just the bartender, or some random stranger who was afraid you’d die or something from slamming your head down. But it wasn’t. Oh how you wished you were dreaming, and that your mind was playing a little trick on you from all the emotions and all the god damn alcohol that was running through your veins. Then the voice spoke. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, you hated it. “Y/N.” You could hear how smug the voice was, you could hear the smirk on their lips. Fuck.

“Go to hell Yunho.” Your words being just a big fat mumble, moving his hand away and allowing your head to rest against the hard wood counter. Yunho, Jeong Yunho. Many people adored the man, which you never understood why. He was a dick with a terrible attitude and didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, the nerve of him even coming near you made you wanna snap. Though, you had no energy to do that. You could still feel him next to you, his perfume was strong, and you’d only ever recognised that scent on him, no one else.

“Are you ever gonna stop being a little bitch Y/N? I just saved you from getting a concussion. You should be thanking me.” A scoff left his mouth. It was true though, Yunho didn’t care about anyone else but himself, he adored the attention from others, women. It was all he got, he was a rockstar afterall, who wouldn’t love the attention? Afterall, thousands of women screaming his name as his fingers played away at his guitar, what a life to live. However, as much as he adored all those women, one woman in particular was all he truly desired, to hear her scream his name, only for him to hear, for her to be a mess on his cock, a mixture of his and her cum dripping from her bare cunt. That woman was Y/N, and she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“I didn’t ask you to, now go away. I don’t need you ro add to my problems right now.” You managed to lift your head and turn to face the dark haired man sitting beside you. It bothered you that he was attractive and that perhaps in another life you’d given him a chance, and maybe if he didn’t have a stick up his own ass and acted like the world revolved around him.

“Problems? Like what? Your only problem is you being an annoying little dog.” Okay, to an extent Yunho could see why you didn’t like him at all, considering all he did was rip into you and just make matters worse rather than at least try and be there for you. All your hatred and dislike for Yunho began just as he started to gain attention, because from the slightest attention his ego grew massive and it bothered you. The two of you had a little history, meeting one another through acquaintances and he was actually really cute, and you were attracted to him in more than one way. That was no longer the case. Now five years have passed and his attitude and ego was unbearable.

“Do you ever fucking shut up? Fuck off, Yunho. Seriously.”

“No.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to.”

All you could do was give him the biggest eye roll, you barely had any energy left to argue with this idiot in front of you, whining at how frustrated you were with him. “My boyfriend— ex, boyfriend. Cheated on me, so I beg you to leave me alone and let me drink in peace.” You had no intention on telling him that, but you prayed that he’d leave you alone and go home or fuck a girl or do whatever it is that he did. Instead he remained right there, pulling something out of his pocket. A ticket, a ticket to his upcoming show. He was absolutely unbelievable.

“You’re kidding me, right? Do you just carry those with you everywhere? I'm not going, I don’t like your music.” Which was a lie. You listened to his songs whilst getting ready, in the car, when laying in bed.

“Just come will you? And fuck your ex, hes a fucking idiot to let someone like you go, the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Yunho meant his words, and he definitely wanted you to attend his show, simply because you’ve never been to one before, and he desperately wanted to show himself off to you in another light. He had to hide the little smile which appeared on his face when you mentioned your ex cheated, he was out of the picture now which meant Yunho had a chance to win you over, and he was determined to.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t flutter a little when Yunho complimented you. It didn’t mean anything to you, well, you thought it didn’t. You chewed your bottom lip as you snatched the ticket and shoved it in your purse, perhaps it would be good to go, what else were you doing? Moping around that you got cheated on? Ridiculous.

“Whatever.. I’m going now.” Oh but getting up by yourself was a terrible idea, you slid off the barstool and stumbled as soon as you hit the ground, squinting as if it were to make a difference to your vision, but it didn’t. Suddenly you feel some long arms wrap around you tightly to hold you in place, you knew exactly who it belonged to as two large hands gripped the side of your arms. You were in no position to argue or say no, since you were pretty sure you’d black out soon enough, which you did.

The next thing you knew, it was the next morning, your head was ringing and you were in bed, at home.

Huh.

A week had passed since your drunken incident, you barely remembered it and still couldn’t put your finger on how you ended up at home in bed, surrounded by your pastel walls. Well, no point dwelling on it now. You were currently sitting upon your white little wooden vanity, gripping onto a curling iron and letting your hair fall as you let go. It was the day of Yunho’s show and you decided to go, why? Who knows. You didn’t even remember how you got around to getting the ticket, and why it happened to be in your purse. it was such a blur to you. A white lace dress with little pink bows at the shoulders was upon your body, the same dress you wore the night you two met for the first time. It wasn’t intentional, not by any means and that memory had slipped your mind. You thought it looked rejected sitting in the back of your closet, so why not wear it? You’d never wear anything to purposefully grab his attention anyway.

“Shit.” It was 5:30, which meant you were running a little later than originally planned— why does it matter though? He probably won’t even notice that you're there.

Dashing around your apartment you grabbed your ink coloured clutch bag which contained the ticket and a few other essentials of yours before grabbing your keys and checking yourself in the mirror by your door before going out to your car. Your phone automatically connected to the bluetooth system in your car and at that moment your phone began to ring, it was Wooyoung. The two of you had been friends since you were in diapers, literally. It was because of Wooyoung, that you met Yunho, unfortunately. What an idiot.Foot on the gas pedal and you were off, pressing the answer button upon the steering wheel.

“Hey Woo, I'm driving right now. What's up?”

“Where are you going? I wanna go out for food, meet me?”

“Ah.. about that, I’m actually going to Yunho’s show..” You’d wondered if he even heard you, because it went silent and you spoke quietly when saying that sentence. But he did hear you, loud and clear.

“YUNHO? I thought you hated him! Why are you going?! Tell me!” The male's voice was extremely loud, almost bursting your eardrums. You hated cutting him off— not true. But right now you didn’t have time to explain, you were practically speeding your way to the venue.

“I’ll tell you later, okay? I promise you. I gotta go.” Just like that, the line disconnected with the click of a button.

Arriving at the venue, you were faced with the largest queue you'd seen by far, sprawling out into the parking lot. The sight was a complete eyesore, however you were certain Yunho absolutely loved the sight.

Lucky for you, Yunho was kind enough to give you priority access tickets, so you could skip the queue. A good thing of course, being around all those fan girl’s would possibly lead you to have an aneurysm. And thankfully, they were seated tickets as you hated standing up and being surrounded by sweaty people, especially sweaty teenage girls and possibly grown women who’d just be screaming for Yunho. Your seat happened to be a balcony seat, and you were the only one there.

Yunho knew what he was doing, he would be able to see you perfectly from there, that's if you actually decided to come. He was nervous, so nervous in fact to go on stage and then be faced with the disappointment of you not being there. The man was infatuated by you and sometimes he really hated it, why you? Why did it have to be you? Either way, time was ticking and it was time to head to the stage. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Ever since he took you home last week, you were the only thing in his mind, day and night you flooded his brain, thoughts of you being fucked, the thoughts of you simply belonging to him. It was driving him insane.

The lights dimmed within the venue, and colors of red and white flashed on the stage, indicating that he was about to come out. For some reason that caused you to feel sick, a pit in your stomach. Why am I even here? I don’t even like him. Yet here you were, in a seat assigned especially for you. Not that you knew that, you had no idea how this ticket got into your possession in the first place.

A loud bang made the floor shake beneath you, startling you for sure. White and red confetti filled the room as Yunho was now on stage, seems as though he was standing on a lifting stage. You began to chew on your bottom lip anxiously, the crowd went wild as began with his first song. Whatever, he’s still an asshole.

Yunho’s ego was always boosted immensely as soon as he appeared on stage, hundreds of people screaming his name, posters and banners just for him. Absolutely perfect. But what was even more incredible, was the girl who appeared to hate him so much, was standing in the balcony he left just for you. The smirk which was painted on his lips was very evident as he pretty much groped the mic whilst his gaze met yours, he didn’t maintain it for long, but long enough to irritate her for sure. Honestly he didn’t expect you to come, especially because you were pretty drunk the night he gave you that ticket. Nevertheless, he was absolutely smitten. He’d watch how you’d rip your eyes from him every time your eyes met, he was absolutely loving this.

The cold breeze brushed against your face as you exited the venue, you were surprised with how you were able to stay the entire time, though there were many instances you wanted to storm out everytime you noticed the smug look on his face. You seriously couldn’t stand the man, but why was your heart fluttering if you hated him? Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did.

You watched as fans walked out of the venue, some with tears running down their faces and sobbing about how much they loved Yunho, which could only get an eye roll and scoff out of you, how ridiculous. You took some time before deciding to walk back to your car, enjoying the breeze and feeling of the night. You happened to park quite far, and the area was deserted pretty much. You were about to enter your car, when you froze.

“Y/n.” A voice called out to you, the same voice you had been hearing for the last three hours. Jeong Yunho. Did he follow you?

“Hi jackass.” You turned around to face him, his body a lot closer to yours than you expected it to be. Crossing your arms across your chest, you tilted your head at him.

“Thanks for coming, didn’t expect you to.” The man was going to attempt to have a decent and human conversation with you, however In that moment, Yunho realized what you were wearing, the expression upon his face was different from his usual smug look. It was desire, absolute filthy desire. Yunho became enamored by you that day you two met, and here you were, wearing the cute little dress which made him obsessed with you forever. Did you know? You did this on purpose, surely.

“Are you trying to just make me fucking crazy? you know what you're doing don’t you?” His body was inching closer to yours, making you press your back against your car door.

“What on earth are you talking about?” You were clueless, but you could feel your cheeks heat up as he got closer, gripping onto the bottom of your dress tightly. If you hated him so much, why the fuck were your panties getting soaked?

“That dress.. fuck y/n are you really that fucking dumb?”

“What d— oh crap.” How didn’t you realize? You were dumb, so fucking dumb. “So what? It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart was fucking racing, it definitely did mean something. How did you forget? He didn’t. He never forgot anything.

“It does to me, ever since I saw you in this dress that showed just enough for me to imagine you under me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Did you know that? You didn’t, because you’re a dumb little bitch.” Yunho didn’t intend on insulting you, but he knew she wasn’t bothered by that, a smirk painted his lips as he noticed your change in demeanor, your cheeks flushed pink, legs squeezing together.

“Yunho fuck y—“ But before you could continue, his large hand came to cup your jaw from underneath, whimpering under his touch. Who knew this asshole could turn you into a dumb slut just like that? Leaning into your ear, his hot breath made your body shudder.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up.” A growl from him before his lips crashed against yours ever so harshly, his tongue swiping your bottom lip, muffling the moans which threatened to escape your lips. Usually your first instinct would be to push him away but this time you couldn’t. His hands moved to grip onto your hips tightly as he pressed himself against you. You could feel how hard he already was just against you, making you soak your panties within just a couple minutes. You were out in the open, no one was around but the rush of knowing anyone could see you any second only made you more heated, your arms finally deciding to move and wrap around Yunho’s neck.

Yunho pulled away, dragging your bottom lip with him, biting on it as one of his hands slipped, letting it slide to your white lace panties, your cheeks turning scarlet red as you realized how soaked they really were, whimpering as he pushed them to the side. Fuck, a little touch was enough to send you to the sky.

“You always act like you hate me yet look at you, wet as shit like a dumb slut. My little baby.” He hissed, his tone a little mocking as two of his slender fingers entered your wet, sloppy, cunt. causing you to throw your head back against your car. He hadn’t even started yet. His fingers sliding in easily due to your arousal, pumping them in and out of you, abusing your tiny little cunt just as he always wanted. Your core was practically burning from the sensation of his fingers, they were pistoning inside you.

“Y-Yun..” You moaned out stupidly, he was only fucking you with his fingers and you could barely talk coherently. How pathetic? Yunho loved it though, he was waiting for this day for so long, to have your head so cloudy to the point you could only mumble his name, to be a mess on his fingers. A dream. Oh how beautiful you looked, your eyes rolling back, pressed against your car under the moonlight. Yunho’s brow cocked, tilting his head slightly and sinking his lips onto your neck, sucking and nibbling against your delicate porcelain skin, painting your skin purple, his tongue swiping his artwork once he was finished.

Yunho decided to insert another finger, watching you squirm was a delight to his eyes. The tent in his pants threatened to push past the fabric, perhaps even some precum already at the tip. He was desperate to fuck you, but he wanted to do it properly, and prep you of course before he took you home and absolutely destroyed you. Besides, the thrill of someone spotting him finger you senseless in the parking lot was a rush, especially to his hardening cock.

The sloppy and wet sounds coming from his fingers in your cunt was beautiful, filling the air. However as soon as he felt you tighten around his fingers he pulled them out, stuffing his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, taking in your sweet taste. “You taste incredible whore. Though.. you think I'm gonna let you cum? The only time you get to do that is on my cock.” Once again, his mocking tone irritated you and you were beyond pissed that you were denied your orgasm. The man was edging you and you hated it, squeezing your thighs together.

“Fuck you Yunho.” You spat, huffing and crossing your arms across your chest. Yunho simply laughed in amusement at your reaction. “So are you gonna fuck me or what?” The sheer annoyance in your voice only made his cock twitch, he absolutely was infatuated by you, he loved your bitchyness.

“Im not done with you just yet, get in the backseat.” Happily you obliged, thinking he was going to slide his cock into you, you hobbled around into the back and laid down, he came in after you, closing the door and pressing himself down. Yunho teasingly grinded his hips against you so you could feel him, and fuck was he hard, you whined under him, groaning when he moved to slide your dress up and slide down your panties completely, shoving them in his pocket. Gotta keep a souvenir right? “Let me get another taste of you.”

You couldn't help but grumble, he was having so much fun and all you wanted was to be fucked into next week. But of course with Yunho that wasn't possible whatsoever. The man shuffled back and sunk his head down to meet your cunt, the sweet smell of your arousal allowed a soft moan to escape his lips before his tongue swept along your soaked folds, his hands gripping onto her skin, as his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked away, looking up to see her face scrunched up, her back ever so slightly arched. Yunho couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging on it as he sucked your clit softly, the moans parting from your mouth getting increasingly louder as he continued to swipe his tongue. You were well aware he’d deny another orgasam of yours, it wasn’t fair. The sensation was so different to what you'd experienced before from other partners. Yunho was definitely skilled. It only made you more eager to see how well he’d fuck you. The situation was quite bizarre. A week ago, you wouldnt of thought that you’d be lying in the backseat of your car having Yunho eat out your pussy.

Just like you predicted though, Yunho stopped as soon as you were close once again, being denied your second orgasm. “I fucking hate you.” You groaned, kicking his chest with your foot slightly as he scoffed.

“If you hated me so much, I wouldn’t be tasting you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You will sweetheart, just patience. Now, lets go home okay? I'm sure youre dying to cum.”

Yunho laughed as he left the back of the car and entered the front, he was in the drivers seat.

“Well? Come on. You can give me head as we drive.”

All you could do was roll your eyes as you shifted to the front seat, climbing your way forward and glared at him. “Im not doing it.”

“That's alright, my cock will be filling you up soon anyway.”

To be continued.

[deep-sea-anemone]

Random One Piece Headcanons, Part One: Dancing

(Zoro+ Sanji+ implied Zosan)

Zoro and Sanji are both really good at partner-dancing

Sanji grew up learning ballroom dancing in Germa as part of his royal upbringing (he'd have to dance with dignitaries and such). It wasn't something the genetic modifications were designed for so he could actually keep up with his siblings and was the lessons he looked forward to the most (though that might not be saying much)

His mother was always bedridden so they never got to dance together but little Sanji would always show off what he'd learned and tell her that he couldnt wait for her to get better so that they could dance together

The Baratie taught Sanji about swing (and other) dancing. Before then he hadn't known there was any other way TO dance. (Imagine for a moment the Baratie after hours. All the chairs and tables are pushed against the wall to make room for a dance floor. Some of the staff play instruments, the sound is...not great, but it's lively and full of energy and soon Sanji is being spun around the floor by the staff-and it's exhilarating, like nothing he's felt before, and he realizes just how much passion there is outside of the world that he left behind. Picture the party scene from The Titanic, that kind of vibe)

Whenever they celebrate, either on land with new friends in a post-battle celebration, or just a lively night on the ship, he's always the first on the dance floor.

He pulls random strangers (mainly women, but not always-he just wants to dance is all) away from staying back in the shadows near a wall and soon has them laughing and smiling as he spins them around. He has the biggest grin and the most magical look in his eyes and they almost fall a little in love with him-until he opens his mouth anyways

Zoro doesn't really dance. He usually just watches from the sidelines, enjoying conversation and booze.

He is a master swordsman however, so he is quite light on his feet and has good balance, which is why when Sanji pulls suddenly pulls him off his feet to the tune of Brook's violin on the Sunny one night he doesn't completely embarrass himself

It does take him a minute, the cook pauses to show him where he needs to put his feet and normally Zoro would complain that HE should be the one leading, not the cook, but he's being swept around at a breathtaking pace and Sanji has a slightly maniacal grin in his eye and it feels so SO close to the way they fight and Zoro has to admit he doesn't hate the way the adrenaline makes him feel.

He let's Sanji lead cause frankly he's barely keeping up, and he has no idea what he would do if he were actually handed the reins.

He still won't dance with strangers, it's too awkward and really not his style, but he doesn't mind the happiness burning in his chest whenever his nakama coax him over to dance with them

One night after a battle, several of the Strawhats are fairly roughed up, but it's still a victory worth celebrating so Brook plays something slow to match the calmness of the candlelight and the crews just slowdances instead. Sanji and Zoro wind up paired together and yes, they were bickering just moments ago and normally they'd be giving each other the stink eye, but Zoro hurt his foot and Sanji is exhausted so Zoro let's his weight fall on Sanji for support and the cook just lets him and tlas they sway they share a look that's so SOFT that neither of them wants the night to end

Neither of them can solo-dance for shit

Sanji just kinda jerks his limbs around and the people surround him quickly learn to give him a few feet of space cause even he isn't quite sure what he's doing.

Zoro kinda just...stands there and rocks back and forth. Chopper tells him to be more enthusiastic so he soes that thing where you put your hands up and keep them still but still dance with the rest of your body. Usopp kindly asks him to stop

Sanji's excited cause Nami always seems to want to dance with him, but really she's just trying to get the cringiness to end

Whenever Zoro and Sanji stand next to each other alone during dances, one of their nakama will make sure to push them towards each other so they will dance together instead. That way no one has to experience the second hand embarrassment of watching their cringeworthy attempts on the dancefloor

Zoro and Sanji don't really mind. They're relieved to have each other during those moments so they don't have to suffer the awkwardness alone.

And...dancing together really isn't the worst anyways. Far from it, actually. It's not that different from fighting, after all, and that's something they do best.

[its-pluto2]

A lot of people like to say radical feminists are white women and therefore white supremac*sts and whatnot. Have you not noticed that a lot of radical feminists aren't even white?

We're Mexican. We're Latin American. We're from India, from the Middle East, from Asia. We're from places where it is life and death to be a woman. Where we're targeted as criminals for protesting the injustice we live every day, where one late night might mean we won't return home, where our sex means a difference in how we're treated all our life in every aspect of it. Jobs, socializing, studies. Everything.

Take a look at Iran. At Mexico. At Korea. Do some research before you throw around words like white supremac*st and n*zi around like they mean nothing when you're talking about radical feminists, the women fighting and putting their lives on the line to stop all of this horrible, terrifying violence against us. Literally, google any of these countries next to the word "femicide" and open your eyes a little to the harsh truth (and I must warn you, if you do this, the results will be upsetting).

You guys like to tag radical feminism as this horrible trend that oppresses other movements when in reality, it's a handful of new, "progressive", "liberal" movements that are trying to demerit and oppress feminism and feminists, whether they're aware of it or not.

If your movement has to take away women's rights, you need to revise what it is you're fighting for and how you're doing it.

I am a radical feminist because I am tired of living in fear. I am tired of hearing in the news of another woman whose life was brutally ended simply because she was a woman.

We're not dying out here, we're being murdered. We're being discriminated, we're being denied safety and body autonomy and the right to choose over what happens to our bodies, we're unable to earn the same as a man for doing the same job, we're unable to express a strong character without being called manipulative or hysterical. We have so. much. bullshit to deal with simply because we are women.

And you still think our sole purpose is to target some random movement and some set of pronouns? No, honey, feminists, real feminists, have our priorities very clear.

What we don't like is that now, we have to be reduced to our organs and that we can't even freely call ourselves women because some people will be offended even by that. I cannot fathom how some people still don't realize the slap in the face that is calling women "uterus-havers" just to coddle other people. Use what pronouns you want, but don't take away women's right to call ourselves women - how absurd is that?! I can't call myself a women to not offend certain people!

Are you really telling me that, on top of having to deal with all of the risks that being a woman implies in my life, I have to not call myself a woman and instead use some odd, progressive term just so I don't offend you?

No. Enough is enough.

Women do not deserve to be silenced, on the verge of the year 2023, because other people with very specific needs and wants, want to be coddled by us. Fight for your rights, by all means, but don't try to take away ours just so you can feel better.

Get a grip on what feminism is, what it stands for, and understand that radical feminism only exists because movement after movement tries to crush everything we've fought for and everything we've achieved.

And, if you're a woman and claim to be libfem, or claim to hate feminism, or claim that feminism doesn't represent you, think again. You're only able to have access to a computer or a mobile platform to express your opinion, wear pants, and have access to basic education, among countless other privileges you take for granted, because of feminism.

I mean, come on. A woman wishing for another woman (e.g. "terfs") to be hurt and die? How awful do you have to be to wish that upon another woman? Who's the bad feminist in this scenario?

Women should support and help women before all else, because we're all each other has. You can coddle and favor men all you want, but heaven forbid, if you ever have to deal with sexual harassment, gender violence, anything related, those men you defend won't help you. They will blame you. The men who love women who hate feminism are the men who are most prone to causing harm to a woman for any reason, and you're coddling them by saying "Oh, feminism isn't about me! I believe in not all men! Death to radfems!!"

Think about that if you consider yourself "libfem" - it's a lie. It's a goddamn lie fabricated to coddle and submit to people who feel entitled to our social struggle, people who are so privileged already that they have to find problems and social causes and make up endless terms and pronouns and bullshit to justify it.

Nothing justifies you trying to silence feminism when, all over the world, no matter what country you look into, women are hunted and hurt simply because we are women.

Get that in your heads.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Romancing the Navy's Princess - Bob

Pairing: Bob / Fem!OC (Maya Kazansky-Mitchell)

Word Count: 2.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are +18 only. MINORS DNI!

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sexual Content; One Night Stands; Light Angst; Background IceMav; Named OC (Maya), who is ADOPTED, No Reference to Physical Description/Appearance; Implications Along the Lines of the 'Bob Fucks' Agenda

Summary: Bob is not the type of guy to hook up with a random woman in his car. Maya something-or-other changes that streak. Except Maya something-or-other turns out to actually be Maya Kazansky-Mitchelli.

Bob was not usually one for a one-night stand. He was not one to chat up random women at bars and then hook up with them in the back of his car. He was not usually the type to even entertain the idea of doing anything like that.

But this night was different, for whatever reason.

Maybe it was because the Dagger Squad chose to go to a civilian bar rather than the Hard Deck. Maybe it was because he put in his contacts—even though he hated them—on a whim. Maybe it was because he was just a little bit touch-starved and desperate.

Or maybe it was simply her.

Maya.

Maya something-or-other.

He didn’t know her last name.

It didn’t come up when she accidentally spilled her drink on him. It didn’t come up when she stuttered and stammered as she tried to help him clean up afterwards. It didn’t come up after he told her to not worry about it and invited her to sit down and chat. And it didn’t come up when she asked him if he wanted to leave with her after talking for the better part of two hours.

And, well, that little detail seemed pretty irrelevant right now.

The windows were fogged up as Bob tried to catch his breath. Maya rested her head against his shoulder and he could feel her chest rise and fall as well. Trailing his hands up and down her side, Bob gave her hips a light squeeze that made Maya smile and press a kiss to his shoulder. And that only made Bob’s heart swell all the more.

“Did you finish?” Bob asked her quietly, causing Maya to send him a giddy smile as she bit her lip.

“Yeah, I did,” she assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.  

“You don’t have to try and protect my ego or anything,” Bob replied, causing Maya to sit up a bit.

“If I thought that telling you whether or not I finished would bruise your ego or something like that, I would have been left by now,” Maya told him honestly, trailing her fingers along his bare chest. “And I’m still here . . . so, do the math.”

“Okay,” Bob chuckled, rubbing her hips again.

He pressed a kiss to her chin that caused Maya to let out a breath of amusement. Leaning down, she cupped his cheeks and stole a few more kisses from Bob. And, well, Bob was certainly not complaining about any of it. Pulling back with a giggly grin, Maya stared down at Bob for a moment, simply taking in his presence for a moment.

“Would it be crazy if I said that we should do this again some time?” Maya asked softly, trailing her fingers down his arm.

Bob smiled and grabbed her hand with his own. Threading their fingers together, Bob pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Maya practically beamed at the simple affection and sat up a bit more.

“Not at all,” Bob agreed, trying to not sound too desperate to see her again. Even if he was. Holy hell, he was already hooked on this woman. “This weekend?”

“Saturday night?” Maya suggested in return.

“It’s a date,” Bob stated, causing Maya to smile bashfully.

“It’s a date,” she repeated quietly.

Leaning down, she pulled him in for another kiss. She tangled her hand in his hair and drew him closer. Bob happily reciprocated and let his hands wander all over again. Just when Bob was about to suggest another round, Maya��s phone started to buzz from a phone call.

Maya pulled back from the kiss and leaned over to check her phone. Bob pressed a set of kisses to her neck while she fumbled to find her phone, hoping to get her to refocus on him. But then Maya must have seen whoever was calling her because she cursed and pulled back entirely. Sitting up, she hurried to fix her clothes and hair while Bob sat there, a bit dumbfounded.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” Maya apologized, leaning over to give Bob a parting kiss. He was too stunned to properly return it. “But I’ll see you Saturday, right?”

“Yeah,” Bob trailed off as Maya slipped out of his car.

“Goodnight, Bob,” she called with a soft smile. “And sorry again.”

Bob sat dumbfounded, wondering how one phone call changed Maya’s demeanor so significantly in the span of about five seconds. He watched her hurry over and climb into her own car and drive off into the night. Sitting in his car alone for a moment, Bob slowly sat up.

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, especially because every moment that he spent with Maya before she darted off felt like something out of a rom com. Phoenix did warn him about his tendency to fall hard and fast, but Maya reciprocated that. She was the one who suggested seeing each other again. Rubbing his face tiredly, Bob let out a groan.

This was why he didn’t do one-night stands. This was why he shouldn’t do one-night stands.

~~~~~

“What do you mean she just left?” Phoenix asked, openly frowning.

“One second we were making out and the next second she got some phone call and had to leave,” Bob sighed, tapping his pen anxiously.

“Did you see who the phone call was from?”

“No,” Bob muttered, trying to just focus on the paperwork in front of him. “And I already know what you’re going to say.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Phoenix replied somewhat defensively, though her expression gave it away.

“I’ll say it,” Hangman spoke up, walking over to Phoenix and Bob’s table. “It was probably her husband or her boyfriend.” Hangman clapped Bob on the shoulder, despite Bob’s rather dark look in his direction. “Congrats on becoming a side piece, Bob.”

“Fuck off, Hangman,” Phoenix snapped on Bob’s behalf.

“What? You were thinking it!”

“It could have been the babysitter,” Coyote added, wrapping an arm around Hangman’s shoulders. “Maybe she’s got kids and didn’t want to tell you about them.”

“That’s a good one,” Hangman agreed, high-fiving his wingman.

“Or maybe it was something else that has nothing to do with anything like that,” Fanboy suggested, trying to be supportive of Bob. Even if Fanboy was a little suspicious about the whole thing himself. “I mean, you knew her for only a couple of hours. Maybe it was just her roommate or something, who only calls in emergencies.”

“A roommate like a husband,” Hangman retorted, causing Bob to scowl.

“Bagman, you have five seconds—” Bob started to warn him.

“—Why the hell are you guys still here?” Payback called, walking into the room. “We’re supposed to be at Mav’s for dinner right now.”

“If you’re so concerned about that, why are you still here right now?” Fanboy asked his pilot, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re going to be late too.”

“Because I have to constantly check on you guys,” Payback sighed, sounding like a tired dad.

“Maverick texted you, didn’t he?” Phoenix deadpanned.

“Yeah, he did, so let’s go,” Payback announced, pointing at the door.

The six remaining Daggers headed out and started driving to the Kazansky-Mitchell house.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Dagger Squad to spend time up there. Maverick and Ice had a pool and a large kitchen that was always stocked with food now that Maverick was retired and Iceman was just working through the last few months of his contract before he would retire as well. And it was far larger than any of the apartments that the other Daggers lived in.

Bob sat in Phoenix’s passenger seat, a bit pouty, as Phoenix drove through the winding roads. He was severely annoyed after that whole conversation. Mostly because he had those thoughts himself already and now that he was convinced that he wasn’t crazy for thinking that, he was even more frustrated. And he was also annoyed because he didn’t think that he should be annoyed.

After all, wasn’t that what one-night stands were? Just sex and nothing else? Why did he have to get so fucking attached so quickly?

“Don’t let Hangman get in your head about it,” Phoenix told Bob softly. “He’s just an asshole.”

“But what if he’s right?” Bob sighed, holding his head in his hands. “What if that’s really the situation? What if I just helped someone cheat?”

“Even if that was the case, you didn’t know,” Phoenix insisted immediately, shooting Bob a look to take a breath. “And you don’t even know that’s the situation. Don’t jump to conclusions. Just take a breath and you can deal with it on Saturday.”

Bob simply let out a groan in response to Phoenix and hit his head against his head rest. Phoenix patted his shoulder with a simple ‘there-there’ kind of way that just caused Bob to sigh and sink into his seat further. Phoenix glanced up the road to see the Kazansky-Mitchell driveway only a few seconds up the remaining hill.

“Besides, we’re here. Just enjoy the good food.”

Bob pulled his hands away from his face and sat up a bit, trying to take a little bit of Phoenix’s advice. He should just focus on what was right in front of him and nothing else. And that was a great plan. Up until what was right in front of him was an oddly familiar car.

Maya’s car, to be more specific.

“Bob?” Phoenix called, confused and a little concerned about him.

“That’s her car,” Bob mumbled out.

“What?”

“That’s her car,” Bob stated more firmly, pointing at the vehicle. “That’s Maya’s car, Phoenix.”

“Bob, that’s a very common car,” Phoenix replied softly, trying to get him to focus.

“I swear that’s her car,” Bob insisted, turning to his best friend. “She had that college sticker on her car. I know that she did, Phoenix.”

“I believe you, Bob,” Phoenix assured him as she turned off her car. “But she’s probably not the only person to have that college sticker or that car. Especially in southern California.”

“Fine,” Bob sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Maybe I’m just starting to see things.”

“Hey, you put yourself out there for the first time in a while. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Phoenix and Bob climbed out of Phoenix’s car and headed inside the Kazansky-Mitchell home. They were the last of the Daggers to arrive and moved to quickly join the rest outside on the back porch. Maverick was over by the grill, chatting with Fanboy and Payback. Ice was sitting down at the table, chatting with Hangman and Coyote.

“Hey, look who finally made it,” Fanboy called, causing Phoenix to scoff.

“You literally got here a minute ago.”

“Still counts!”

“How’s it going, Mav?”  Bob asked, causing the older aviator to smile.

“Just starting up the grill. Drinks are inside and Rooster and my daughter are in the middle of bringing out the rest of the food,” Maverick explained, gesturing towards the house.

“Your daughter?” Phoenix inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she moved back home for her new job. She’s staying with us until she finds an apartment,” Maverick replied with a proud smile.

“You have a daughter?” Bob questioned, sounding surprised.

“Yeah, we adopted her when she was a baby,” Maverick explained, turning to Bob with a softer smile. “She’s been living out on the East Coast for the last couple of years, so we haven’t gotten to see her that much lately. But now she’s home for a while.”

“Well, congrats, Mav,” Bob replied quietly, trying to not sweat through his shirt.

Maya’s car was in the driveway. She was living at home.

Things were starting to add up and Bob wasn’t liking the direction that they were heading in.

And, almost with comedic timing, the glass door to the house opened right behind Bob and Phoenix. Bob turned around and stared at Maya, who was chatting with Rooster as they carried out some sides and appetizers. And when Maya finally locked eyes with Bob, she froze as well.

“Phoenix, Bob, this is Ice and my daughter, Maya. Maya, this is Phoenix and Bob,” Maverick introduced, gesturing between them casually before going back to grilling.

“Hi,” Maya breathed out awkwardly.

“Hi,” Bob returned, just as painfully awkward.

She wasn’t Maya something-or-other anymore. She was Maya Kazansky-Mitchell. She was Ice and Mav’s daughter. She was the COMPACFLT’s daughter. She was his mentor’s daughter.  

Now, this was why he shouldn’t have one-night stands.

[ravenzeppeli]

Claimed

Chapter 5- Prosciutto Is Not |Prosciutto x Reader Angst|

Warning: nudity, implied sex, graphic murder. mention and described, threats, strong language. MA.

You laid on the random rental bed as Illuso got dressed, staring up at the white ceiling. You laid fully nude, a numb, unsatisfied tingle buzzed between your legs. You just had terrible sex- you didn't even come close, almost having an orgasm. It was just you sucking him off, and then he railed you in doggy mode and pulled your hair until he came.

He pulled his white tshirt over his head as he walked over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as he looked down at you. "Last week this fuckin' prick tried to rip us off," Illuso told you as he leaned back, his body stretching over you, his back pressing against your bare stomach. "Shit pissed me off. Why would he try that shit knowing who the fuck I am?" He questioned, pulling out a joint from his pocket. "Wanna know what I did to him? Also you gotta fuckin' lighter?"

You reached towards the wooden dresser, picking up the lighter and handing it to Illuso. "What did you do?"

"I scalped the son of a bitch, I took my hunting knife out my pocket and I cut his scalp straight off," he told you, placing the joint in his mouth and lighting it up, taking a hit. He inhaled before blowing the smoke in your face, a sick grin on his face. "He was fuckin' terrified, still alive with his brain showin'. I had to shoot the poor bastard, he was begging pretty hard." He put the joint up to your mouth.

You tilted your head to the side slightly as you slightly leaned forward, taking a quick drag. You inhaled, then exhaled, turning your head to the side to avoid blowing smoke in his face. "How long do you think someone can survive without a scalp? Like, if your brains are exposed and nothing is protecting it, how long can you really live?" You should feel fear, but you didn't feel that. You just felt curious. You've killed before, but never like that. "Do you wanna do that to me? Is that why you're telling me?"

"Melone is weak as fuck, and his stand isn't as good as mine," Illuso began as he suddenly sat up, "but he's fucking insane. And he fucking told me last night that if you die he'll go insane and destroy everything. Now, I don't know what that fucking means but I don't wanna find out. Also, I'm fine with you being my little girlfriend, I ain't gonna kill ya. I just want to tell you about my day since you're my girl. Gotta problem with that? Don't want me to be tight with you like you are with Melone?"

"What do you mean?" You questioned, not knowing what he's trying to imply. What does he want from you? You assumed he would only want sex and to hang out when he was bored. Why was he suddenly saying you were his girl?

Illuso put out the joint on the dresser, leaving a small cigarette burn dent in the dark wooden cabinet. "I'm 34, I've been through so much pussy I don't even know how many women I've slept with. I might of paid for most of it, but damn the pussy just always kept coming." He turned to face you, leaning forward, his face suddenly inches away from yours. "They also kept going.. and that's what they were supposed to do. I've had my fun, I think I can go all the way with you."

You raised your eyebrows at him yet again, "maybe you should get tested. This is why I always make you wear a condom. You literally could have something." You shook your head, freezing up when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he planted a rough, sloppy kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, you reached a hand out, placing it on his chest. "Why?"

"I use fucking protection even when I get my dick sucked, don't disrespect me girl. And best believe I don't go around kissing either, I've only kissed on five women. One was my first girlfriend when I was a kid, one was my fiance I dumped, two from girlfriends, and you're the last one. And I dated that last girl three years ago," he spoke to you softly, but a hint of danger still rested in his tone. "So what's up? You're my girl now, right? I'm making it official, I just want to hear you say it so fucking say it."

You decided to play your cards right, nodding your head. "Okay, I'm your girlfriend, and you're my boyfriend." You were a little surprised, but you technically already were kind of dating all seven of them. You didn't count Ghiaccio or Pesci, though, despite being told you should, but whatever. These men couldn't read your minds, and you were a good actor. "I mean, what's the point in saying it? Nothing will change. Right?"

Illuso smirked, placing another kiss on your lips before standing up. "Everything's going to change between us now. I promise you that." He patted your cheek gently. "Go downstairs or stay up here, I don't fucking care what you do. I'm going to take a shower. I'll see you and those beautiful fuckin' tits when I come downstairs."

-----

"I don't want to drink the fucking water, I don't like it," you told Melone as you pushed the glass back towards him. "Don't you start. I'm an adult, I drink what I want and I don't want water. I'm not a fish, do I look like a fish to you? Hm?" You walked over to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a can of soda. "I just woke up, I need caffeine. Not water, not toast."

Melone followed you, grabbing the soda out of your hand. "Why are you so cranky this morning? That's because you don't drink enough water, and you skip breakfast," he told you, shaking his head. "I'm a very patient man, baby. I'll keep bothering you. I'll give you the soda once you eat a piece of toast and drink some water, please. I just care. That's it, baby."

You couldn't admit this to even yourself really but you loved Melone. Despite feeling like these men will turn on you and kill you, you can't help but find yourself falling in love with him. No man had ever beaten a man to death because they wanted to harm you, that's so.. hot? You didn't know how to describe it, but it made you want him, him constantly showing you positive affection, and taking care of you made you actually fall in love with him. And despite him being overly excited during the first two times you had sex with him, he was great in bed- amazing. You didn't care that he was insane and a little toxic. You weren't perfect.

"Why are you giving Melone a hard time? Just sit down and eat the damn bread, I don't want to hear him asking you a million times," Prosciutto snapped, causing you to walk over to him, sitting across from him. "Do you need to be constantly watched? Eat girl, you're young and need to stay healthy."

You looked down at the plate that Melone placed in front of you, seeing a piece of toast. You grabbed the toast, taking a bite as you quickly snatched the soda out of Melones' other hand, placing it under the table and between your legs. "I'll eat the toast, okay? Fine."

Melone smiled down at you, nodding his head. "Good. I just want want to be healthy. Three meals a day and a little extra are important. Now, I'm going to go get ready." He leaned down, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "I am more than ready to protect you. I'm going to rip those men apart, I promise you that." He patted your shoulder before leaving, heading into the living room of the rental.

You kept your face emotionless, but inside, you couldn't help but feel a little turned on by his possessiveness over you. You leaned back, your eyes meeting Prosciutto, who was already staring at you, his hands clutching a newspaper as he looked you up and down. "What? Stop doing that to me. That's like, fucked up."

"When a man looks you up and down, it means they're physically attracted to you Y/N," Prosciutto told you, a hint of annoyance in his tone. Immediately your eyes moved up and down, you only being able to see his face and part of his chest, his dress shirt buttoned down slightly, revealing his bare chest as well as a thin gold chain. "Oh, really now?"

You looked around, never being the type to joke around much, especially with these men. Despite 'dating' them, you only felt comfortable joking around with Melone, but you refrained yourself. You were a woman. You always had to worry about these men finding you weak and fragile, so you just kept your mouth shut. You found yourself close to asking him something, but you stopped yourself.

Prosciutto cleared his throat, causing you to once again meet his eyes. "I will be taking you out on a date soon. Would you prefer to eat out or would you like for me to cook for you at my house?"

You instantly froze, looking down at your toast. "We.. can go to your house." You've already been seen in public with Melone and Formaggio. You didn't want your reputation completely ruined. How will people look at you knowing you're dating seven men? They'll look at you pretty poorly.

"Maybe that is for the best considering these unique circumstances," Prosciutto told you, nodding his head as he picked up his cup of coffee, taking a sip from the black mug before looking down at your toast. "What's the most important meal of the day?"

"Alcohol," you replied, picking up the toast and taking a bite. You chewed and swallowed, leaning back as you looked at him. "I've never been to your house before. Are you sure I can be trusted?" You smirked a little, causing him to suddenly lean forward, eyes going dark. "Do you want a kiss? You'll have to ask nicely, and I'll say no."

"I am not Formaggio or Illuso. Stop making jokes with me. I am not amused. I have been in the mafia for over 25 years, don't tell me I can't trust you," Prosciutto snapped at you, instantly becoming frustrated with you, his tone threatening and harsh "I hardly know you, and I know nothing about you. You could be working for the enemy. Your entire first encounter with Risotto is suspicious."

You let a laugh escape your lips, causing him to suddenly stand up, his large lean but muscular form stepping towards you, towering over you. You immediately realized that your laugh came off disrespectful, causing you to scoot back in your chair instantly, and your head immediately dropped down to protect your face from being hit. You weren't laughing to disrespect Prosciutto. You just find it amusing that he would accuse you of working for the enemy. What enemy? You hardly knew anyone, let alone any fucking enemy they had.

Before joining La Squadra, you only had light knowledge of the mafia world, only selling drugs for Luca and sometimes collecting money from businesses that owed him. You knew of a few names - Bruno, Polpo, Squado, and Tiziano - and you knew of Risotto as well. You just heard names, also selling drugs to lower ranking members. You kept yourself heavily armed, knowing how dangerous it was for a woman to do what you're doing. You always felt as if one day soon your life would be cut short for all your crimes and being too involved. That's why you'll never trust these men. They could kill you at any moment. Afraid.. did you feel afraid? No.. you felt conflicted about your entire situation.

"Did you just fucking laugh at me? Am I some fucking joke to you?" Prosciutto snapped, two hard steps padding across the hardwood floor. "You keep disrespecting me and I am done with it. I got something to adjust you." You suddenly heard a jean buckle, causing you go suddenly lift your head, immediately reaching out your hands.

As he began to unfasten his thick leather belt, your hands stopped him, your smaller hands attempting to wrap around his larger ones. Him beating you with a belt was not something that you wanted to enjoy with your morning toast, instead attempting to stop him. "I'm sorry, Prosciutto, I was just kidding. I didn't mean any harm. Before this, I just sold drugs for Luca and collected some money for him. And I killed a few guys. I was honest with Risotto," you told him, finding it hard to keep eye contact with his hard gaze. "I told him everything." You think.

"How many men have you killed?" Prosciutto questioned, letting his hands freeze instead of snatching them away from your grasp.

You shrugged. "Why would I keep count? I just killed the men that ripped him off." You've been ripped off by women a few times but always ended up paying what was missing to Luca. Without his knowledge, he was ripped off. You didn't want to kill any women, just men. "I shoot, or I stab them. I never use my stand unless necessary."

He kept his glare on you, almost meanicing as he slowly began to nod his head. "You better watch yourself around me. You've been pissing me off too much.. if it was just you and I here and I wasn't about to leave, then I would punish you accordingly." He looked down at your hands, raising his eyebrows. "For now, I won't, but when we are alone, you'll be getting your first punishment from me."

"You know, you're making it really hard for me to like you," you told him, causing take one step back, your hands dropping to the side as he buckled his belt. You could now see why Prosciutto had trouble keeping a woman married to him. As attractive as he was physically, it seemed that he wanted to have full control over who he was with. Unfortunately for you, you aren't in a situation where you can just leave him or say no. Leaving him would mean you leaving Melone, and you loved Melone. You also knew that a group of assassins could easily track you down; you would always be on the run, and that was no life to live.

"That doesn't hurt my feelings, but I will be sure to remember how much you don't like me when punishing you. It will keep me from stopping when you beg," he told you, voice suddenly becoming low, almost.. kind? "It's time for me to go. I'm needed on this mission, so lucky for you, I won't be staying here alone with you. Pesci will."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise; you haven't spoken to Pesci much, almost forgetting completely that he was your seventh boyfriend. "Pesci?"

"You listen to him and respect him. He is very nervous, but that does not mean that he isn't a man. He is very capable of protecting you, so don't give him a hard time, or I'll be even more pissed at you," Prosciutto warned, raising his hand and placing it on your shoulder. "Do not try anything. I am warning you."

You nodded your head. You had no reason to be mad at Pesci. He's never done anything at all to you. You could awkwardly sit next to him until Melone gets back. Oh. And the others. "Why would I? He's never done anything to me, I have no problem with me. I have no negative feelings towards him." You have no feelings towards him.

Prosciutto nodded his head, gently squeezing your shoulder before he walked away, leaving you to stand in the dining room.

As he walked away, you still felt his hand on your shoulder, as if he was still lightly grasping it. You raised your hand gently, touching where he grasped your shoulder, a tingle running down your spine as you touched the area, still warm from his gentle yet firm grasp.

[torreshalstead]

I’ll show you mine - part 4

Summary - He didn’t fit. His clothes were too nice, his hair too neat, he was raising all the red flags for Hailey. She didn’t think he was part of the crew she was trying to take down, but why else would he be in such an establishment on a random Tuesday night? But then he muttered the words into her ear that she had least expected - ‘I’m police’.

Chapters - 4/?

Notes - hope you enjoy the little angsty turn we are taking here but never fear these two will have a happy ending. They deserve it in every universe! Happy Reading ❤️ AO3 Link

She slept like a baby, Jay’s limbs wrapped tightly around her body, his warmth adding to her own. But then Hailey was abruptly pulled back into consciousness with a jolt.

He had told her last night he thought she’d be great in Intelligence, that he thought his boss would offer her a job. And then she had slept with him. What an idiot. If she got moved to Intelligence now, everyone would assume she had just slept her way in, fucked the right person to get her the promotion she wanted.

Hailey’s heart rate started to pick up, the arms around her started to feel like a cage holding her just a fraction too tightly. Her palms went clammy trying to think of a way out of the mess that she had got herself into because she hadn’t been able to keep her libido under control.

It didn’t matter how much she liked him, how she actually for once thought she might have a future with someone. It hadn’t just been a one night stand to her when she had led him by the hand to her bedroom and had let the remainder of her clothes drop to the floor. She had wanted it, wanted him. That wasn’t the problem, but now she had to deal with the repercussions.

Jay had told her it would be worth it, them pushing past that line and jumping into bed together. Had implied that it wouldn’t have an effect on her moving to Intelligence. But he was a man.

He didn’t have to deal with the stigma that followed female cops, especially those who braved the snickers and comments and pursued a relationship with another member of the department. Hailey had seen how women like that had been treated, seen how people had treated her when she had been given her Detective badge at such a young age - the assumption was she had picked the right white shirt and spread her legs. The brothers in blue mantra didn’t extend to those of the fairer sex. It had made her furious.

But that didn’t change the fact that if she walked into Intelligence hand in hand with Jay, she would be treated as less than.

She loved her job, cared about her career and her city and that was the most important thing to her right now. No matter how good the sex was with Jay. No matter how much he seemed to know her, paid attention to her, wanted her for her. That didn’t matter. She needed to end this, before it had a chance to become something more. Before more of her heart was on the line.

But the current problem still remained. They were at her apartment, in her bed and he was currently attached to her like a very attractive barnacle. It had seemed like the best idea to invite him back to hers and not go back to his, but now it seemed like a foolish decision. She couldn’t sneak out when it was her own home!

Or could she?

She could pretend she had a call from work, that they needed her in urgently, text him and tell him to lock up on the way out. She had no qualms leaving him in her apartment, she just needed to ensure he was gone when she got back and then she could just pretend that nothing had happened between them. If she blanked him maybe he would get the hint, wouldn’t push it and they could just get on with their lives.

If she did get the call from Voight about the move to Intelligence then she might have to cross that bridge, but she decided to deal with that if and when it appeared. Maybe it had all been a ploy anyway, a line from Jay to get her into bed. Promise the girl a better job and she’ll drop her panties. And Hailey had done exactly that. She mentally berated herself for the idea, she knew Jay wasn’t the type to do something like that and she felt a twinge of guilt for even thinking such a thing.

Deciding not to wait a second longer for the man next to her to wake from his slumber, though Hailey doubted it would be anytime soon, their final round last night had taken it out of both of them, she slipped out from under his grip. She immediately missed the warm, her naked skin goosepimpling against the chill in the air. She ignored it, grabbing up her discarded jeans from the night before, a clean pair of underwear from her drawer and a flannel she had worn earlier in the week from the back of the chair in the corner. A quick glance behind showed that Jay was still sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware that his bedmate was plotting her immediate exit.

She didn’t have time for a shower, the running water would definitely wake him up, so she tugged on her clothes silently, grabbing her phone and tiptoeing from the room. She’d return in a bit once she was certain he had left and shower then to wash the lingering feeling of Jay’s hands off her body. It wasn’t necessarily something she was looking forward to, it felt weirdly final.

—————————————————————————

Hailey settled on texting Jay whilst she sat in the nearby Dunkin’s car park sipping on a coffee that was tasting a little bitter.

Sorry work called, lock up when you leave - Hailey

It was cold and blunt and didn’t reflect how she really felt at all. She truly hoped he wasn’t hurt by her apparent indifference to their night together, that was the last thing she wanted. She had drafted a couple of responses but nothing seemed appropriate - how could she tell him how much she enjoyed their escapades when she had no intention of repeating them, or even with flirting with him again. She was to give him the cold shoulder until he realised that she wasn’t worth his time and moved on to someone else.

A part of her wished it didn’t have to be this way, that she could have kissed him awake that morning and let herself fall back into his arms again. Morning sex was something she loved and she imagined the slow and sensual movements with Jay would have moved it to firmly top of her list.

But she wanted the job.

She wanted the job for not just her but for her team. They deserved to be recognised for their hard work and staying in Narcotics was going to do nothing for them. But if they moved to Intelligence with her and she was marked as someone willing to whore herself out for a promotion, it would reflect badly on them too. And she wouldn’t do that.

Wouldn’t do that to them.

Wouldn’t do it to herself.

No matter how much she wanted to turn her car around and hope he was still at her apartment.

Her message showed as delivered and she waited patiently for the check marks to turn blue. It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes and then she waited.

She didn’t know if she wanted him to reply, or if she did what she wanted him to say.

If the shoe was on the other foot, Hailey wasn’t sure she would have responded to a text like that. A text so conflicting to her words and actions the night before. A text that disguised a lie.

Okay, stay safe at work. I’ll call you later - Jay

He was a better person than she was, she thought as her head thumped back against the headrest, her eyes closing in an effort to fight back the tears. Hailey Upton didn’t cry over a boy. Especially not when she had made her own bed, and that bed didn’t have him in it.

—————————————————————————

By the time Hailey returned to her apartment, it was empty. She let out a shaky breath as she closed the door, a tiny part of her had hoped Jay would still be here. She had no idea what she would have said to him if he had remained, but at least she would have got to see him again.

Plodding into the living room and dropping herself down onto the couch, something on the coffee table caught her eye. Reaching for it, she realised it was a note. Jay had left her a note.

Morning,

I hope you’ve had a good day at work and come home safe. If you’d have stayed I would have cooked you breakfast, or at least made you a coffee. So to make up for it, can I take you for dinner? It doesn’t have to be tonight if you get home late, but another night.

Last night was incredible.

I’ll call you later,

Jay

A breath hitched in her throat as she reread the words, his penmanship could do with some work but it was his words that were having an effect on her. She so badly wanted to take him up on his offer, go out for dinner with him, hold his hand across the table, fight over who would cover the bill and spend another night exploring every inch of his body.

But she let the note drop back down to the coffee table. That would remain a want that would never be fulfilled.

Her night with Jay would remain that. Just a night. No matter how badly she wanted it to be more.

Closing her eyes and trying desperately to banish the memories of the previous evening, she let herself fall back against the couch cushions. She had a plan and she was going to stick to it.

Even if the call from Intelligence never came, dating a cop was never a good idea. There was always politics involved, they could still run into each other on a case. It just wasn’t smart, and she knew that if she thought with her brain rather than another part of her body. She hoped that the call would come however, even with the added complexities of working alongside Jay and ignoring her want to drag him into the locker room and have her way with him, it was a good unit. She would learn a lot there, her team would flourish. It was the right move.

Her phone started to vibrate next to her where she had discarded it upon reading Jay’s note.

Jay Halstead. His name flashed across the screen.

She groaned as she looked at it. She stared at it as it rang out, clicking over to voicemail. The notification came that a message had been left, but she ignored it.

She needed to stay strong and she knew if she listened to his voice then her resolve would waiver. The last time she had heard that voice it had been whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Hailey groaned again.

She switched her phone over to airplane mode. It was easier to ignore his calls if she didn’t have to see them. She knew she should just answer, tell him it meant nothing and was just a good fun night. But somehow lying about it felt ten times worse than just avoiding the matter. Because it was more than that, she knew that, and he had known it too. They had both felt it as they collapsed into each other’s arms, exhausted and drained but content.

Hailey flicked on the TV hoping that something on there would take her focus and she could let her mind wander - preferably away from the freckled green eyed detective who seemed to have taken up residence.

—————————————————————————

Hours had passed by the time Hailey managed to drag herself off the couch and into the shower, relishing the hot water that scolded her body. Netflix had succeeded in taking her mind off Jay for approximately 10 minutes but no matter how much she tried to push his image to the back of her mind, he continually pushed past her defences. Every image that flickered across the screen reminded her of him.

Wrapping herself in her largest towel and letting her wet hair hang down, dripping down her back, she sat herself on her bed and picked up her phone.

She needed to switch it back on, to check that no one from work had needed her today. It was her DO but anyone who worked in a specialised unit knew there was no such thing as a complete day off. Her phone felt like a dead weight in her hand, switching it on would let anything that had come through from Jay come through to her.

She clicked it back on and waited.

2 missed calls - Jay Halstead

1 missed call - Unknown Number

1 text - Jay Halstead

1 voicemail - Unknown Number

Choosing to ignore his text, she assumed it would say something along the lines of what he had said in his previous message or in his note. Who leaves a handwritten note anyway? Like they were in some costume drama or Jane Austen novel. She’d thought about throwing it in the trash, had even scrunched it up but she couldn’t do it. She had flattened it back down and left it on the kitchen counter. Hailey didn’t know why she couldn’t throw it away, that was a question she wasn’t willing to ask herself or admit she probably knew the answer to. Not right now anyway.

The unknown number though, that was something she couldn’t ignore as it could easily be someone from the district who was trying to get a hold of her. So she clicked onto the voicemail and then onto the speaker.

The gravelly voice of the stern Sergeant echoed through her phone. ‘Detective Upton, it’s Sergeant Hank Voight. Can you give me a call when you get this? I’d like to discuss the possibility of you joining us in Intelligence.’

[mrworldwideshoulders]

24k magic || series announcement || part 3

—are all the roads to happiness paved with gold? sometimes luxury can be found where you least expect it—

these next stories are inspired by the 2016 album of the same name

**all release dates tbd unless otherwise noted**

Link to playlist: hooligans

Track 1: 24K Magic Title: All The Wrong Places (posted here!) @mrworldwideshoulders​​ Pairing: reader x MYG Rating: rated M / R Genre: angst, fluff After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill - one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back.

Track 2: Chunky Title: I Choose You (posted here!) @mrworldwideshoulders​​ Pairing: reader x KNJ Rating: M / R Genre: fluff When your best friend abandons you at a wedding with a bunch of strangers and the guy she’s trying to set you up with is just not that into you, you decide to roll with it and have some fun instead of sulking in the corner, and your confidence earns you the attention – and the affection – of one Kim Namjoon.

Track 3: Perm Title: Permission to Dance @mrworldwideshoulders​​ Pairing: reader x KSJ Rating: M / R Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, implied smut You don’t do parties. They’re not for you. You’re just here to make sure your friends don’t make complete fools of themselves. However, when life of the party Kim Seokjin catches you sulking in the corner he’s determined to make sure you have a good time - no matter what it takes.

Track 4: That’s What I Like Title: Moonshine @mrworldwideshoulders​​ Pairing: reader x KTH Rating: M / R Genre: friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, smut It was only supposed to be a one night stand. Then it turned into a strictly no strings arrangement. Now he’s ready to whisk you off to Paris for a surprise weekend getaway, just to spoil you. He’s perfect – almost too perfect – which leaves you wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.

Track 6: Straight Up and Down Title: So Gone @mrworldwideshoulders​​ Pairing: reader x PJM Rating: rated M / R Genre: established relationship au, smut, fluff You've been dating your best friend for a while since he proposed to you. Now, it's finally time for you to propose to him…but things might not go quite like you planned.

Track 8: Finesse Title: I’ve Got You Under My Skin @mrworldwideshoulders​​  Pairing: reader x JHS Rating: rated M / R Genre: enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, light smut Hoseok is used to having women fall at his feet - but you’re the only one that’s unaffected by his supposed charms. But one thing leads to another, then suddenly you’ve finessed your way into each other’s hearts without even realizing it – and a drunken confession about the woman who first shattered his heart just might change your mind about him.

Track 9: Too Good to Say Goodbye looking for Jungkook? catch him in Waitin’ For You (yet to come in part 4).

©2023 mrworldwideshoulders & onmypillow-onmytable | main masterlist | series masterlist | 

[maya-matlin]

Second question---I'll try not to keep inundating your inbox :) I saw your hilarious and all too true tags about Gossip Girl making the worst choices when it came to their endgame ships and wanted to ask which 3-5 shows you'd most want to switch the endgame ships for if you had the power to do so. I'm assuming Gossip Girl is among your top five, but a lot of shows infuriate people with their endgame ship choices, so maybe not...?!

Ha, thank you! And I promise, it's not a problem. I honestly love getting asks. Wow, I'll have to think.

1.) Gossip Girl (There's no question about it. The endgames were all wrong. They didn't get a single one right. Dan and Blair should have been together. It should have been Serena and Nate. Finally, how in the hell did Lily end up with her manipulative ex-husband while Rufus was with a random celebrity cameo? Chuck should have ended up with a life sentence.)

2.) One Tree Hill (What can I say? I'm forever a Brucas/Jeyton advocate. Had Chad Michael Murray not ruined everything and Bryan Greenberg been willing to sign a contract, I genuinely think the story probably would have gone this way. Thank god for Naley)

3.) Riverdale (I mean.. I do think Betty and Jughead ended up together in the end. I think the subtext was pretty blatant and Roberto gave them a lot while still having the plausible deniability to claim there were no endgames other than Choni and Kevin/Clay. But at the same time, the original ships were so thoroughly destroyed and the new ones so half-assed that a lot needed to be altered so that the ending was anywhere close to being decent)

4.) Friends (I'll always ship Rachel with Joey, but mostly Rachel should have gotten on that damn plane and not entertained the idea of a reunion with Ross after those two thirty somethings spent seven fucking years unable to overcome poor communication and a misguided one night stand. You either admit you were broken up or you don't. You either acknowledge and sympathize with your partner's pain or you don't. They probably broke up again a month later. And ideally, Rachel should have ended up with Joey while Ross could have ended up with multiple other, more compatible women such as Charlie, Julie, Mona, or even Emily)

5.) Faking It (The entire show was about Karma and Amy. There's no disputing that. It was promoted as a lesbian love story where the two best friends gradually realize they're meant to be together. Yet somehow, the creator of the show dragged his feet for three seasons even though the ratings were low. As a result, they never even officially dated. Even worse, his later comments make it clear that the endgame was for Karma and Amy to eventually sacrifice their romantic relationship for their frienship - something that has stopped exactly zero straight couples from ending up together)

Honorable mention: Degrassi Next Class (I just wanted Zoe and Grace to be together. It's what needed to happen. No one needed the writers' offensive little "gotcha" moment where Grace decided she wanted to make out with Zig with exactly zero build up or hints that she was into any dude. The official endgames were tasteless. Grace/Jonah and Goldi/Winston did absolutely nothing. Even Zig and Maya were only "implied", though their endgame has thankfully been officially confirmed several times since)

[mysterious-foxes]

Hey thanks for responding. My first question is what is a ZEF? Second how is telling women that they should wait for a man who deserves to have sex with her make me an incel? Don't incels believe they should be able to fuck any women they want? Hooking up is not good for women, because we are the sex that gets pregnant. Why give up your vagina to some random guy who doesn't deserve it? Wouldn't it be pro-women to say that you deserve a man who loves you, to have sex with you. Not some random guy who sees you as a sex object and forgets your name after one night? How is that pro-women? Hooking up only benefits men and makes them see you as a sex object. Women are worth more than a one night stand, they deserve a man who wanted them for more than sex. Also, saying married people and people with children are pro-child sacrifice doesn't make the child sacrifice any better.

I’m more than happy to answer!

ZEF stands for zygote, embryo, or fetus.

It wasn’t that you want people to abstain until marriage (which is creepy obsession in and of itself), it was that you said they should “value their vagina”. And implying that we need men to financially support us didn’t help and is an abusive mindset. Incels are cis men who hate women because nobody will sleep with them. They think it’s their right to have sex and women are denying them that right.

Hooking up can be great for us. Even though we can get pregnant doesn’t mean that hooking up is automatically a bad thing. Some people enjoy it, some don’t. Why are you so obsessed with other people’s sex lives? It’s really creepy. Your continued use of treating us like a vagina is continuing to make you sound like an incel posing as a woman.

What’s wrong with women having sex, just using that person for sex and then forgetting their name and that they ever existed? Why do you think that it’s only men who do that? And what’s wrong with women not caring if a man does that? And why is it any of your business? Yes, it’s extremely anti woman to think that only men enjoy one night stands and then forget about the other person. It’s anti woman to think that having a one night stand is a bad thing for people who aren’t you. It’s anti woman to say that they aren’t “valuing their vagina” or are just “giving up their vagina”. It’s extremely anti woman to police our sex lives.

I didn’t say anyone was pro child sacrifice. What a strange strawman argument

[thinkingofsimpyboisinc]

Using a random word generator to help make stuff for y’all. :,) If you have requests, send them now bc I’m on the grind.

WORD: GRADIENT

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?: an inclined part of a road or railway; a slope.

CHARACTER: TECHNOBLADE

WARNINGS: Yandere, Possible Predator/Prey (NON-sexual), Injury, Stalking, Implied Kidnapping

A/N: This isn’t CC!Technoblade. It’s just a random version of C!Technoblade. He still has pink hair, but the story takes place in modern times. Thank you for listening.

You had originally met him at a grocery store. You were new to the area and didn’t know where anything was in the store; he was standing in the same aisle up ahead. You had asked for one item or another and thanked him when he showed you, but he wasn’t done yet. He walked you to the area and continued chatting, which didn’t bother you; friends were always nice to have. He introduced himself as Technoblade, a bit of a strange name, but you weren’t one to judge (at least not openly.) You introduced yourself back, bought your items, and left. Little did you know, that was enough for him.

That night, Technoblade had never left your presence, not that you knew that. He made sure to be quiet, walking slowly and staying in the shadows. On occasion, you’d turn around just to check that no one was behind you, but Techno was quick. He avoided your sight and watched with interest as you walked into an apartment building; he had your address. He went home that night, remembering everything he had learned that day - learning your schedule would be hard, but not impossible. It’d just take time, time that he had.

Ever since that day, Techno would randomly appear at places you’d be at. You concluded that he must have been a rather active person, despite what other locals had told you about him. You recall a time where a gas station employee told you to ‘watch out for that one.’ You were puzzled but shrugged it off to dumb, small-town rumours. With his monotone voice and sharp, red eyes, some dumb teenagers or cynical, old women had to have something to say about him. You found it quite ridiculous, to be honest. Techno had been a real help to you while you’ve been here; he was rather attractive as well. Some people on this Earth just had to be awful.

You started realising that something was up when he had mentioned your cat on one of your meetings. You didn’t recall telling him about your cat; you never saw a reason to. He insisted that you had told him, that maybe you just didn’t remember it because it wasn’t too important. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, but you always found it a bit strange. The second incident happened only two days after. You and Techno had ran into each other at your workplace. It was late and your shift had just ended, so after closing up and exiting the building, you turned and immediately bumped into someone’s chest. Upon backing away and looking up (after apologising, of course,) you recognised the familiar face of Technoblade. He gave an awkward chuckle - something you noticed could be a force of habit - and asked, sort of jokingly but also not in a way, if you were still open. You found it a bit odd that he’d even think the shop would be open at this time of night, and deep down, you knew it wasn’t just a coincidence either. You still pushed the thoughts away and made a joke that maybe he could be an exception.

You made a bit of small talk and took note of the nice-looking car behind him; you recalled him mentioning his job once, saying it ‘paid nicely’ (something that you found weird was why he felt the need to mention his job that day, the conversation had nothing to do with work) so you assumed it was his. He offered a ride, saying he didn’t see any other cars around, which was true; no one else could be seen or heard at this time of night. You declined. You weren’t sure as to what it was, but something about Techno had just felt off today. Maybe it had something to do with him showing up to your workplace just a minute after you locked the doors or maybe that he was even out at this time of night, allegedly ‘just for a bite.’ You said you’d just walk home even if your home was far away, you didn’t see any reason to be scared. It was a rather safe area, anyway. He persisted and after a bit of back and forth, you became too tired to wanna walk home, so you gave in.

His car was just as nice as it looked. The seats were cozy and the car was clean. As soon as you were both in the car and buckled, he immediately started driving, not once asking about where you lived. Instead, he explored other topics such as how your day was, what was going on at work, any troubles with customers; just all the standard questions he’d ask. You couldn’t help but realise, however, how he knew the direct path to your house. You knew you never told him. You slowly stopped responding to his questions and comments to contemplate any point in time where he might’ve learned where you lived, and this behaviour didn’t go unnoticed. Techno glanced over at you and questioned if everything was alright. You couldn’t hide it any longer, you let it out. Blurting the question out, Techno glanced at you. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel harder; he gave a short sound of questioning and seemed visibly upset despite the shaky smile he wore.

You asked again, “How do you know where I live?” He gave an nervous chuckle and attempted to tell you that you’ve told him or he walked you home before; you called him out over and over until, eventually, he just went silent. You pressed forward, continually asking him and mentioning all the other things he had done that was strange. His face was full of anger, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, you would’ve found his anger attractive, but as he took a sharp left turn, you questioned your taste in men. You felt the back of your head collide with the door and your vision went black for a few seconds before you came back to Techno shaking your arm, assumedly to make sure you were alive. You shoved his hand off you, now getting increasingly anxious as well as frustrated. He tried to de-escalate the situation, but you were persistent, demanding he stop the car and let you out. He refused and instead sped up.

As you sat there you came to the realisation that he was no longer on route to your house. The forest stood just a few yards ahead of the car, the trees were close to each other and it was hard to see through the thick woods. If he took you in here, you would never get out. Where would he even take you? What was he going to do with you? Why you out of all people? As the thoughts flooded your brain, you began to hyperventilate, tears pouring down your face. Techno glanced over to you and tried to calm you down, insisting that you would be okay and he’d ‘take good card of you.’ Hearing his forever monotone voice only made you sob harder. He was always so nonchalant about everything, how could he be calm in a moment like this? You looked out the window to try to get a hold of your surroundings - you were in the forest, deep in the forest. You looked behind, your vision blurred from your tears that still w from your eyes, and couldn’t see anything but forest behind you. You weren’t sure how deep in you were, but you couldn’t see the road you were taking anymore. Maybe that was just because of your blurry vision, maybe you were both out further than you thought - you couldn’t tell. You looked around for an escape, anything that could possibly get you out of this situation. Even if you knew that, no matter what, it would be either man or nature that took; you preferred nature.

The passagener side window was cracked, presumably from the impact of your head, and had some blood dripping down from the cracks, again, presumably from your head. The blood was worrying, but the sight of the lock controls on the door boasted your mood. You looked over at Techno, who was focused on getting through the clearing ahead; he didn’t question your silence (besides your continuing crying, that is.) You slowly reached your hand towards the door controls, never looking away from him; as soon as you would unlock the door, he’d know, so you’d have to open the door immediately. You’re grateful that as soon as he took the left turn, you’d unbuckled; it saved time and possibly your chance of escaping.

You unlocked the door and through it open.

As expected, Techno immediately looked over at you, but you were already out. You rolled a few times and combined with the feeling of your head pounding from the turn, you thought that going with Techno might not have been that bad. You push those thoughts down and pushed yourself up; Techno had already stopped the car a few yards ahead, you didn’t have time to stagger around. You bolted into the woods and tried to tell yourself that you would be fine, that you’d stick somewhat close to the path but even the most experienced adventurers would get lost in the thick wood. You ran without care, knowing that Techno would be right on your tail. As you continued through the forest, slowly losing your sense of time as well as direction, you began wondering how worth it this was. You went into the woods thick enough to make even the brightest days seem dark with no further experience with manoeuvring the forest just to spite a man whose intentions weren’t even known to you? You knew that there was no getting out of this, it was either him or certain death by nature. You debated turning back and going to hopefully find Techno but as you heard someone grow near, you snapped into reality and ran as fast as you could. This time, however, he wasn’t letting up; he was a fast runner and clearly knew more about getting through these woods, but you were determined.

The forest grew thicker and the night grew darker, but Technoblade was ever-so persistent. You were tired and covered in cuts and bruises from the tree branches and other parts of the woods. You ran as fast as you could, but you didn’t know how much longer you could go. You saw a bright shine from the moon ahead and opted to continue running in that direction. You pushed through and ran straight into light…. only to slip and fall down the gradient. You must’ve hit your head again while falling, or maybe you just lost so much blood that it seemed like that, and your vision grew darker. You heard the sound of someone sliding down the slope - they obviously had more experience in stuff like this, you wondered if you weren’t the first person this happened to - and a shadow was casted over you. As your vision began going dark for what you hoped to be the last time, Technoblade gave a slight huff and you felt yourself be lifted up and carried off.

[melrosing]

Does Jaime have a Madonna~Whore complex? I dont know which definitions people are using but if they imply that Jaime has that much of a simplistic view of women in general then imo they are dead wrong, his interactions with prostitutes are pretty telling in particular since he is def aroused by them but doesnt give in temptation, not bc he is disgusted by them or anything but mainly since he is not a one night stand guy and kingsguard vows 'n stuff; his thoughts regarding them are mostly mild w zero animosity: people say he associates cersei with whores but he never projects his anger on them, but instead on Lady Westerling for different reasons that actualy bother him about cersei - betrayal (and he also does it on all male freys and Brecken so its nothing gendered); Add on that that he also infamously gets aroused by Brienne so... What do you think?

It's a weird one, I'm basically of the opinion that no, he doesn't, but GRRM's writing being what it is, this occasionally appears murky.

The reason I say that no, Jaime doesn't, is because I don't think his attraction to Cersei or Brienne has anything to do with their sexual history or lack of it, it's all character and fidelity. He doesn't take issue with Cersei using her body where she truly has to, because she's already had to do that with Robert. Jaime's resented that it's been the case, but that's largely expressed through his wanting to protect her from him.

What he resents Cersei for in AFFC is just sleeping with random men when there's (so far as he knows) precisely nothing at stake - because that's called cheating, and it tends to upset your partner. In terms of Cersei's actual experience of those encounters, I talked a bit way back about how it's a whole lot more complicated than just infidelity.

But even despite that, it's clear from the text (re. Cersei on Aurane and Rhaegar) that she doesn't feel she owes him any level of loyalty despite knowing full well that's what he wants from the relationship and that's what she's always promised him he has. So Jaime's wrong on the details, but he's right that emotionally, Cersei is not loyal to him and has no real intentions of being so, despite demanding this from him. It's not about her being 'used goods' or her sexual autonomy. I'd agree the misogynistic phrasing of all this in Jaime's head makes it seem so, but more on that another time I guess.

And like you said, it's again fidelity on his mind when he considers sleeping with sex workers. He's interested in Pia and Hildy when they express interest in him - i.e. specifically when they demonstrate sexual autonomy, not a lack of it - but he turns them down based on his fidelity to either Cersei or, in the latter case, his vows as a member of the KG. Not because they're women who've slept with other men, and who desire sex.

And going beyond what Jaime thinks and getting more into what the text itself is telling us... I understand why people think, when his relationship with Cersei is contrasted to his relationship with Brienne, the contrast between the two can read as a Madonna/Whore Complex. Brienne's a virgin, she's virtuous, and Cersei's a woman who has sex with various men and... is not virtuous. And then there's Jaime's conflict between the two. But, I don't think the text suggests anywhere that their sexual autonomy is tied to their virtue or lack of it, which is really what defines the trope.

Brienne is a virgin because she doesn't have a husband, doesn't like the ones on offer, and has fortunately been able to fight or escape the men who would force themselves on her. She doesn't look down on sex, women who enjoy sex, or sex work (I mentioned with a previous ask, practically her first act in Jaime's POV is to pay tribute to sex workers who have been murdered), and clearly she has sexual desires of her own. She just hasn't been able to fulfil them. Brienne's lack of experience not a statement of her virtue, and it's not treated as such by her, Jaime or the text.

Meanwhile, Cersei has slept with other men because she has a difficult relationship with her body that means she actually doesn't fully feel sexually autonomous - she's survived a marriage made up of regular assaults, and is reliving them in her relations with the Kettleblacks etc. She is also revisiting them on characters like Lancel and Taena. The text is not saying 'Cersei is a whore', and I think if anyone took that away I'd be.... fucking concerned.

It's a difficult subject to talk about (this is kind of the short version, and I'm hoping it comes over right), and I get why people have different takeaways. I'm sure there are people who disagree w me reading this, and that's fine, everyone's welcome to share their thoughts. But yeah, my personal feeling is that these characters and their relationships are just far too complicated to be reduced to that kind of trope.

[outercrasis]

Maybe It’s A Sign

Pairing: Modern!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 9.3k+

Warnings: alcohol, implied age difference, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming

Summary:  You and Mando have been driving across America together for months. You're happy to be with him but part of you longs for something more.

A/N: I don’t really know the time period for this, probably like anything pre-2010s. There’s no use of y/n and let me know if I missed a warning :)

Read it on AO3

The breeze from the open truck window is cool against your heated skin. It's your only relief as the sun beats down on you through the windshield, the busted A/C offering no help. You're headed down some freeway in the middle of nowhere America, riding shotgun in an old beat-up truck that's seen better days.

You've been keeping your eyes on the flat landscape surrounding you, watching as field after field passes you by. They really weren't joking when they'd named them the Great Plains. Music filters through the air, some classic rock song you've heard a thousand times before. You still hum along mindlessly, enjoying the small amount of entertainment.

Bored of the vast sameness outside your window, your eyes drift over to your companion, driver, and owner of the truck. Mando. You study him, finding him far more interesting than the fields outside.

His worn baseball cap has been pushed up, presumably from scratching his scalp underneath and not bothering to fix it. Soft brown curls peek out around the edges of the hat. He has his sunglasses on and his eyes are firmly fixed on the road ahead, as they should be. The patchy scruff along his jawline has grown out a bit from your recent days on the road and you can see a few gray hairs mixed in with his darker natural color.

He shrugged off his jacket earlier in the day, leaving him in a worn gray t-shirt that hugged his lean muscles all just right. His faded blue jeans are on and you wonder how he can stand to wear them in the oppressive summer heat. You gave into shorts days ago.

All in all, he was a far better sight than anything outside the truck. As you look him over, you muse how everything he owns seems to be worn in. His rusty truck, his old hat, his distressed clothes. They all carry a sense of being lived in, nothing new and shiny on him. Well, except for his jewelry. His silver necklace and rings always shine brightly, a dramatic contrast to the rest of him.

"Stop staring," Mando suddenly says, breaking you from your observation of him. You're a little embarrassed to have been caught, but you aren't going to let him know that.

"Why? Nothin' else to look at around here."

That rewards you with a chuckle. At least he isn't irritated by your staring then.

"Don't you have a book or something?" 

You look over at the book you had thrown on the dashboard. A used copy of Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger that you picked up a couple states back. You aren't sure you like Holden, but it's a good read at least. "Yeah, but I can't read it for long before I start feeling sick. So I guess I'll just have to look at you instead."

"Sure that I won't make you sick?" Mando teases.

You smile. He's in a good mood today. There are days where conversation with him is like pulling teeth, but it makes days like today all the more worth it. 

"Nah, you aren't so hard on the eyes." You say it cool and casual, genuine but not needy. As though you don't often think of his looks when you have the time and privacy to satisfy your needs.

Mando shakes his head slightly but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Sure, sweetheart."

He never seems to believe you when you compliment his appearance. It breaks your heart a little. Sure, he has some years on you, but you aren't blind. You know a good-looking man when you see one and Mando? He was it. If the man wasn't oblivious, he'd notice the looks plenty of women and some men throw him when he strolls into town.

Not sure of what to say next, but not wanting the conversation to end, you take to a habit that's been slowly forming over your months with him. It had begun out of boredom one day, but continued due to a desperate urge to learn anything and everything your mysterious companion will tell you about himself.

"When's your birthday?"

Mando isn't surprised anymore by your random questions. "May eighteenth."

Your eyes go wide at his answer. It was July now, meaning he'd let the day come and go without telling you. You had just assumed his birthday hadn't come around with you yet. "Mando! Why didn't you tell me? I would have at least said something if I had known."

He shrugs. "Birthdays aren't a big deal where I grew up."

"Were you raised Jehovah's Witness or something?" you ask.

"No, nothing like that." His fingers drum slightly on the steering wheel. You noticed a while ago that he did that when you got close to something he didn't want to talk about. His childhood always seems to be a touchy subject.

You want to know more, want to learn all of his secrets, but you don't want to jeopardize his good mood. Mando had shared bits and pieces of those more intimate details with you over your shared months with him, but always on his own time. His own terms. You won't push it now. Instead, you pivot to something more innocuous.

"If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?" 

You're surprised when he barely takes any time to consider the question before answering. "Tacos."

You raise an eyebrow. "Tacos? I took you for more of a burger and fries kind of guy."

"Nothing compares to a good authentic taco from down by the border." He says it with such confidence that you can do nothing other than believe him.

"I wouldn't know," you say.

Mando cocks an eyebrow at you now. "We'll have to fix that then."

A warm flush runs through your body at his words. You know he isn't looking to get rid of you, but hearing him make plans for the future with you, no matter how tentative, makes you happier than you care to admit. Small promises that you know he'll make good on eventually given the time and opportunity.

"What about you?" he asks.

"Easy. A full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast. Doesn't matter how they're cooked or the specific options, you can't go wrong."

You stretch yourself out in the cab as you answer, throwing your feet up on the dash. Your eyes close for a moment and you miss the way Mando's eyes rake over your extended frame.

"You're never awake for breakfast," Mando comments. He's right. You enjoy your sleep and when left to your own devices you easily dream through breakfast hours.

"That doesn't matter," you retort. "Breakfast food isn't only good in the morning."

You continue that way for a while, gathering small bits of information about him and sharing your own in return. You learn that he prefers hot weather over the cold, soft pillows over firm ones, showers over baths, and most surprisingly that he has a soft spot for musicals. That fact had made you giggle, imagining Mando singing along to The Music of the Night. With all of his mystery, he wouldn't make for a bad Phantom you think.

As the afternoon wears on, you can feel yourself growing tired. Between the warmth of the sun, the lulling rumble of the truck, and the comfortable environment of the cab, you're fighting to keep your eyes open. Mando notices your struggle and reaches a hand out towards you.

You aren't really sure when this began, but you aren't complaining about it. Mando would hold your hand whenever you fell asleep in the truck, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. His hands were rough, callused from years of work, but they felt nice. They felt strong, comforting. In those moments nothing else in the world mattered. And if you thought about his hands later, touching places other than your hands, then that was your business and no one else’s. 

You wake up a couple hours later, Mando calling your name to pull you from your sleep. The sun has moved down in the sky and you guess it’s somewhere close to five o’clock. You’d check the time on the radio, but Mando never seemed to bother keeping it right due to regularly changing time zones with all the cross country traveling. 

You’re sitting outside of some 24 hour diner on a random roadside. Mando seems to be fond of these little dives, preferring them to any of the big chain restaurants you always pass. Fast food is the only exception to that rule and even that’s rare, these food stops often being one of few chances to stretch your legs when you’re on the road.

“What do you think? Do they have the best pie in America?” you joke, pointing at the sun-worn sign hanging below the restaurant’s name. You can’t count how many ‘best blank in America’ signs you’ve seen at this point. While you can’t credit their authenticity, it usually did mean there was something good waiting for you on the menu.

“I suppose we’ll have to be the judges of that,” Mando replies.

You tug on your socks and shoes that you pulled off earlier in the day and hop out of the truck. The easy conversation and warm nap have you in a great mood, one that makes you a little bolder than you might otherwise be. Walking into the diner, you grab onto Mando’s arm, smiling at him when he looks down at you in surprise. He doesn’t pull away from you though and your heart beats a little bit faster.

The diner has plenty of open seats and you seat yourselves, grabbing one of the booths. The stiff vinyl isn’t the most comfortable, but you can’t say you’re surprised. The place looks like it hasn’t been renovated in a decade. If the smell from the kitchen is anything to go off of though, the food will be just fine.

A waitress comes over to take your orders. She’s exactly what you would imagine a waitress to look like in a diner like this one. Slightly heavyset, a kind face, and a big smile to offer you. “Hi there, what can I get the two of you?” she asks.

“I’ll take a coke, ma’am,” Mando says. He seems oblivious to the flush on the waitress’s cheeks at his baritone. 

“I’ll take a coke too.”

“I’ll be right back, folks.”

You reach over to grab a sticky menu from the end of the table. The stickiness grosses you out a little, but it really does add to the ambiance of the place. Your conversation from earlier drifting back into mind, you immediately look for the breakfast section. Perfect. Their ‘two eggs and more’ option is exactly what you were looking for.

The waitress returns with your drinks and takes your orders, Mando getting himself a burger and fries. You smirk at him, taking the wrapper off of your straw. “I thought you said you weren’t a burger and fries kind of guy?”

Mando watches as you carefully make a wrapper worm, dropping the smallest amount of soda on the paper to make it move. “I just said tacos were my favorite, never said I’m a guy who doesn’t enjoy a good burger and fries, sweetheart.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug.

You fall into a comfortable silence together at the table. Silence isn’t an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. When you first joined Mando you talked all the time. Trying to fill up the empty space, feeling like if someone wasn’t talking then the situation was awkward. Slowly you learned though. The silence was never awkward until you made it that way and unless Mando had something to say, he’d stay quiet. He’s not incapable of conversation, he just doesn’t like to force it.

You softly hum a tune that’s been stuck in your head, looking out the diner window and enjoying the sunset. It’s a gorgeous one today, the sky looking like an oil painting with its gradient of colors. The flat plains allow for a good view of it too, only a small building in the distance blocking any part of the horizon. You kick yourself for not picking up that disposable camera at the gas station this morning. The photo would never do it justice, but at least that way you could have a small piece of the gorgeous sky to hold onto.

Plates being set down on the table brings you back down to earth. You happily dig into your meal, pleased to have been right about the quality of food here. Nothing could beat a good meal at a greasy diner. Mando seems to enjoy his burger as well, scarfing it down well before you finish your plate.

He always ate like that and you aren’t sure why. It’s as though he thinks if he doesn’t eat it fast enough then someone is going to come and steal it from him. Early on you’d tried to speed up your eating, feeling awkward every time he finished and was forced to wait on you. Now though, you don’t care. Mando rarely ever stops moving and a meal with you is a time you can be certain that he isn’t doing anything for once. You hope that eventually it might encourage him to actually enjoy his food as well, but that still seems a long way off.

Mando picks at his fries and sips at his coke while you finish up. The waitress comes by to refill the drinks, another flush on her cheeks when Mando thanks her. There must not be many attractive men who roll through here if a simple thanks has her blushing, you think. Poor lady, she seems quite nice.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask Mando between bites of egg and toast.

“Plan?” 

“Yes, plan. We’ve been driving west for two days now and you seem to have some destination in mind. So, what’s the plan?” What plan, of course Mando has a plan. He always does. Was it always well thought out or complete? No, but there is never a time where he doesn’t have some sort of plan, some idea of where he’s off to next. You’re the one without plans, content with travelling alongside him.

Before Mando can reply, the waitress returns to the table and clears his now empty plate. “Can we get a slice of your pie?” Mando asks.

“Of course, what flavor would you like?” she replies.

“Whatever flavor you think is best, ma’am.” That garners yet another blush on the waitress’s cheeks. Wow. Things must be really bad around here then. One good-looking customer shouldn’t have that big of an impact on anyone, much less a woman who’s clearly made this job her life’s work.

She leaves and you prompt Mando again. “So? Plan?”

“I’m going to meet someone tonight, pick up a new job. Then we’ll go from there,” he finally tells you. 

You aren’t pleased by his half-cryptic half-telling answer. He’s always doing this to you, giving you answers but never quite the whole thing. You bet he already knows what the next job is, he’s just being coy about it for some ridiculous reason.

You decide not to push it and slide your plate over to Mando. There are some hash browns left and he won’t just ask for them despite the fact that you’re clearly done. He doesn’t say thanks, just picks up the fork and shovels them in. This by now is routine too so it doesn’t bother you, but it’s still odd. Mando is just weird about food.

He finishes the last of your meal and the waitress returns with the pie. “Blueberry, winner of the county festival five years running,” she tells you.

You grab a fork and dig in, suddenly finding the room in your stomach for dessert. Best pie in America might be a stretch, but you believe their claim to the best pie in the county. It’s delicious, eliciting a small but satisfied groan from you on the first bite. You go to take a second bite when you realize Mando hasn’t moved yet, he’s just watching you with an expression on his face that you can’t quite make out.

“Earth to Mando?” you say, waving your hand. “Try the pie, it’s delicious.”

He breaks from his stare and takes a piece of the pie. “‘S good,” he says around the mouthful.

You laugh at his terrible manners. “Gross, finish chewing before you talk.”

He doesn’t have a witty retort, but he gives you a grin that makes you feel like you’ve won a million dollars. It’s one of the ones that reaches his eyes, making them just shy of sparkling. Now you really wish you had bought that disposable camera.

Finishing the award-winning dessert, you and Mando go up to the counter to pay. He’s left a tip on the table, a sizable one in your opinion, but you aren’t going to say anything about it. Mando is always leaving big tips at places like these.

You take in the diner for one last moment, not paying attention to Mando’s conversation with the waitress until she says something that catches your ear.

“-shift ends in a half hour.” Did you hear that right? Was she really propositioning Mando right now? Christ, things must be downright desolate around here. 

Your heart stops as you wait to hear Mando’s reply. He could easily accept. She’s an attractive woman with that classic middle America charm about her. Any other man would probably take her up on the offer. Would it shatter your heart into a million pieces if Mando did? Most likely. But do you have any right to feel that way? Most likely not. 

Mando isn’t tied to you, at least not in that way, and he’s certainly still a man. You haven’t known him to chase after any women the whole time you’ve been with him, but surely he has needs and the waitress is beautiful and willing. You wouldn’t be able to fault him for it. 

“I’m flattered, but the lady here and I need to be getting back on the road,” Mando says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You do your best to keep your face neutral, not wanting to come off as rude while also trying not to make it obvious the way your heart swoops at Mando’s reply. You know he doesn’t mean anything serious by it, but the implication is still very much there.

Embarrassment washes over the poor woman’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I just assumed…” she trails off, not finishing her thought. You want to feel bad for her, but you can’t help but feel sorry for yourself.

You have a good idea of what she assumed. You’ve heard a multitude of mistaken relationships by now between you and Mando. Everything from some kind of family relation, to something more perverted that’s assumed by greasy motel attendants who cast odd glances when you ask for a double instead of a single. It’s never any less uncomfortable.

 Mando brushes it off. “It’s fine ma’am, no harm, no foul.” The waitress doesn’t blush at his words anymore.

Bill paid, you and Mando leave the diner. His arm leaves you and you climb back into the truck. The radio flickers back to life and neither of you speak. You wish you could know what’s going on inside of his head. Probably just thinking about the next job. That seems like him, always focused on what’s coming next.

You can’t help but be consumed with thoughts of him. Situations like the one with the waitress always left you distracted. There’s no real way to describe your relationship with Mando. You had helped him with a deal and he had helped you with a way out of your one-horse town. Originally neither of you planned on staying together for this long, but at some point Mando stopped asking you where you wanted to go and you stopped asking if he was going to leave.

You’re comfortable around each other, content to drive across America while Mando picks up job after job. At some point your feelings deepened for him, you aren’t exactly sure when, but now you can’t imagine leaving Mando. It’s no longer just about the adventure of it for you. It’s something more, a deeper tie than you’ve ever had to anyone. However, you have no idea if he feels the same way and you don’t intend to find out. Better to love your mystery man from afar then reveal yourself and get left in the dust.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Mando reaches over and turns down the radio. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You’re a bit surprised to hear an apology. After all, he had nothing to really apologize for. The waitress had come onto him, not the other way around. You know Mando isn’t the type to flat out refuse and insult someone like that. What he had done was… fine. You had hardly even considered it.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Mando,” you tell him. “If anything she did, propositioning you like that.”

A small, relieved smile works its way across his face. “It was quite bold.” 

That makes you laugh. “I’m not surprised, she was sizing you up since we walked in.”

“She was not,” Mando argues.

You shift in your seat to face him. “Are you kidding? You really didn’t notice her blushing every time you spoke to her?” If Mando was this oblivious maybe you didn’t need to worry about him catching onto you.

“Now you’re just lying, sweetheart.”

“Am not. You just don’t pay attention.”

Mando rolls his eyes and turns the radio back up. He mumbles something but you can’t make it out. You let it slide and allow yourself to relax. Your hand falls to the center of the bench seat as you look out the window. The stars are coming out now, another gorgeous sight in the vast expanse of the sky. So far away from the city, it feels like you can see every pinprick of light the universe has to offer. It’s a bit disorienting honestly. Nothing makes you feel smaller by comparison and yet, you don’t really mind.

You startle as something wraps around your hand. Looking down, you realize that it’s just Mando, holding your hand as he does when you’re close to falling asleep in the truck. You look up at him, confused. You aren’t anywhere close to nodding off. He should know that, so why…? 

Mando doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. His thumb softly rubs against the back of your hand. You relax into his touch, turning your eyes back to the stars. Confusion about Mando’s actions doesn’t compare to the way your stomach flips at his gentle touch. It feels nice, domestic almost, if one can consider a life lived out of the front seat of a rusted out pickup domestic. His hand doesn’t leave yours until he pulls into the pothole filled parking lot of some dive bar.

Mando parks and turns the truck off. You move to get out of the truck with him when he squeezes your hand to stop you.

“Stay in the truck,” Mando says. His hand leaves you and he opens his own door, jumping out onto the cracked asphalt. 

You look over at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? You know I am old enough to go in there, right?”

“I know. Stay in the truck.” Mando closes the truck door, giving you no more room to argue with him. It pisses you off. 

What is this? Soften you up by holding your hand only to leave you behind? You hate when he does this, treating you like a child that’s just tagging along with him. You suppose you are tagging along, which stings a bit more, but you could be helpful, useful even if he would just let you in. Instead he keeps you at arm’s length at times, treating you like you can’t take care of yourself. He has no right to boss you around like that, telling you where you can and can’t go.

You watch his figure enter the bar, temper rising. If this place was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for you. A bar like this had been where you met Mando months ago, working as a bartender and server. It didn’t bring back the best of memories, but you can handle yourself. At worst a fight might break out or patrons might get a little handsy. You can avoid the first and as for the second, it’s not as though Mando would need to put someone in the hospital for getting a little too flirty with you.

After fuming in the truck for a couple minutes, you make up your mind. You look yourself over in the mirror, trying to fix your appearance to look like you hadn't just spent the last two days in a truck. Pleased with yourself, you pull your shirt down slightly to reveal a bit more cleavage. The discovery of the power a pair of tits held in dive bars was one you made a long time ago. You flip the mirror back up and get out of the truck.

You practice your walk as you approach the bar door, trying to keep it calm and confident. Mando is going to be pissed at you for this, you already know, but you refuse to be treated like a child. If coming in here without his permission is what it takes for him to view you differently, then so be it. Younger you might be, but incapable you are not.

The moment you walk in the door, you spot Mando. He’s in the corner, talking to someone with his back to the door. He doesn’t even notice as you walk in and stroll up to the bar.

The man behind the counter is old, his white shirt spotted with stains and a towel thrown over his shoulder. It’s almost too stereotypical a look and you want to laugh. The stiff look he gives you though stifles your amusement.

“What can I get you?” he asks gruffly as you take a seat at the bartop.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.” 

Whiskey is not your favorite drink. Not by a long shot. Really, you would have loved to order something fruity that you can’t taste the alcohol in, but whiskey is something you’ve learned to tolerate. You know that appearances matter in a place like this and a fruity drink would mark you as someone lost, not as someone who belongs here. You aren’t looking to get trashed anyway, just something to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t take long before someone is sidling up next to you at the bar. You don’t acknowledge him right away, instead staring up at the small CRT TV that’s playing the local news above the bar. Some murder case from a couple towns over is currently being highlighted. Lovely.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asks you.

You glance over at him, enough to get a look, but you don’t let your eyes linger. Lingering eyes would mean an invitation that you certainly don’t want to give. You have to admit, as far as seedy dive bar men went, he isn’t hard to look at. Not much older than you, clean shaven, bright blue eyes. Another time you might have gone for someone like him. Not now. These days your thoughts are only occupied by scruff, dark hair, and warm brown eyes.

“Came in for a drink,” you reply simply.

He leans in a bit closer. “Can I buy you another?”

You take a sip of your drink. “I think I’m alright, thanks.”

He pushes in even further, placing a hand on your thigh. This guy didn’t take no for an answer apparently. “Aw, come on now, don’t be that way sweetheart.”

Hearing him call you sweetheart makes you want to punch him more than him touching you does. It sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, harsh and manipulative, not the smooth and warm way Mando says it. For a moment, you do seriously consider punching this guy square in the jaw before deciding against it. You came in here to prove a point and not being able to handle a pushy guy would just prove the exact opposite of that.

You turn in your chair to move your thigh away from him. He has the decency to let his hand fall at least. “Don’t call me that,” you tell him.

“Alright then, what do I call you?”

You turn your attention back to the TV. Now they were highlighting a feel good story about an animal adoption from the nearby shelter. Odd shift in tone. You don’t reply to Blue-eyes and hope he gets the message. 

“Playing hard to get, that’s fine,” he says. You take another sip of your whiskey. The news shifts to the weather. There’s more warm weather on the way for the next week, no storms in sight. That’ll be nice to drive in you think.

Blue-eyes’ hand returns to your thigh, creeping up higher than it was before. “I don’t mind hard to get, sweetheart.”

That one garners a slap. You do it before you even give it a real thought. It’s a good one at least, making a very solid sound as his head spins. It’s a testament to the bar that no one even spares it a second glance. Blue-eyes turns back to you, furious.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” he hisses at you, roughly grabbing your arm.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t take your hand off of her.” 

You’ve never been so happy to hear Mando’s voice in your life. Could you handle this guy? Probably. Do you want to? Absolutely not. You know on your own there's a near certain chance you'll end up with bruises before this guy gives up.

Somewhere in your mind you register the very real possibility that Mando is pissed at you right now. You shove it down, choosing to focus on the fact that he did just come to your defense. 

Blue-eyes is more stupid then he looks and doesn’t read the very obvious threat Mando poses. Instead he doubles down and tightens his grip on you. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, old man?”

You can't say you're surprised when Mando punches him in the face instead of answering the question. You also can’t say that you feel bad about it either. The surprise and hurt of the sudden punch makes Blue-eyes release his grip on you, giving you enough time to move out of the way as Mando moves in. Mando grabs a fistful of Blue-eyes' shirt and pulls the guy in towards his face. 

“Do you regret it?” Mando grits out. Blue-eyes sputters something that sounds like an apology and pushes himself away. 

Satisfied, Mando now turns on you. You were right, he's pissed. His typically soft, warm eyes are hard on you now as he pulls you away.

You flounder to tell him you haven't paid for your drink but he just ignores you, dragging you out of the bar. If you were smarter, you would think to be a little scared about making a man like Mando mad at you. Instead, your thoughts are occupied with how he's barely even trying to overpower you and yet you couldn't break free of his grip if you tried. You wonder if there's something wrong with you for how much it's turning you on.

Arriving back at the truck, Mando releases his grip. "Get in," he demands.

You do as you're told and climb into the passenger seat as Mando goes around. Nerves finally settle in. Mando would never hurt you, you know that, but he could decide to ditch you somewhere. Whatever this situation is with him, it's far from formal. He has no obligation to you and could easily choose to end it. With the trouble you’ve just caused, you wouldn’t be surprised if this all comes to a swift and sudden end.

As Mando climbs into the cab, you stare down at the floorboards, terrified that he's going to tell you he's dropping you off somewhere and leaving you behind for good. You can't imagine your life without him now. There's nowhere for you to go, nothing for you to do without him. Right back to square one.

He doesn't speak right away, which only makes you more nervous. He peels the truck out of the parking lot, headed back in the direction you came from. You still don't look at him. It's obvious you fucked up and there's nothing you can really say to fix that. Your only hope is that he forgives you.

You're headed back through the small nearby town when he finally speaks. “I told you to stay in the truck.”

You don’t say anything in response. Anything you can come up with sounds childish in your head. The exact opposite of what you'd been trying to prove. Thankfully, Mando takes your silence as an answer.

“Why would you even do something like that? Do you know how stupid that was?” His hands are tight on the wheel, glancing between you and the road as he yells.

You mumble back to him. 

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“He called me sweetheart,” you say a little louder.

“What?” He isn't going to let you off the hook with this and it gets under your skin. Some part of you thought he might be proud of you for smacking that creep and here he is berating you for it.

“He called me sweetheart, alright?” you half-shout.

Mando gives you a confused look, clearly not the answer he was expecting. “Do you- do you have a problem with that?” The heat is still present in his voice, but you can hear a little worry in it now. Shit. This is not what you wanted out of this whole ordeal.

You've never wanted the ground to come up and swallow you more. Why didn’t you just say that you smacked him for touching you? That would have been simple. How do you answer this without making everything weird? No, Mando, I don’t have a problem with that. I smacked him because I only like it when you call me that. Sure. That won’t be weird or awkward at all. 

After cursing yourself for a few seconds, you manage a response. “No, I- I just didn’t like it when he said it.”

"Oh." That's Mando's only reply.

You know he's still angry about you coming into the bar, but apparently your answer has sidelined him. If it wasn't so embarrassing, you might even be rejoicing at his reaction. Instead you just feel like a fool.

The silence remains as you pull into a little local motel with the vacancy sign lit up. Mando hands you forty dollars, way more than you need, and tells you to get a room.

Okay. So he isn't getting rid of you… yet.

You barely even listen to the attendant as they tell you they only have one single available for the night. Now is not the time to be arguing about sleeping arrangements. You take the key, room 104, and make your way back to the truck. 

You grab your bag from the flatbed and let Mando know the room number. He nods and goes to pull the truck around. You kick yourself as you walk over to the room. Why didn’t you just stay in the truck? Why didn’t you just lie to Mando about your reasons? He’s smart and it won’t take long now for him to put two and two together. Especially if he asks anymore questions.

You have no idea how Mando might react. If learning about your feelings towards him combined with what happened in the bar might be enough to leave you. He’s certainly not cold with you, but you’re not sure you’d call any of his actions romantic either. Holding your hand after the diner today is the closest he’s ever come. You wish you knew what that meant to him. You know what it meant to you.

Mando parks the truck outside of the room as you unlock the door. It’s not a fancy room, just one big square with a bathroom attached. There’s a full bed, a dresser with a TV on it, and a small table with a couple chairs. You toss your bag on the table and sit down on the edge of the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t upset, Mando can always see through your lies. Might as well just get this over with.

Nervous, you hide your face in your hands, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. You’re ready to deal with it, but not while actually looking at him. You can’t handle seeing his face as he figures things out; the way he might look at you while he rejects you. Suddenly you feel a wave of sympathy for the waitress earlier today. You hope Mando will let you down easy like he did for her.

You don’t look up when Mando comes into the room. His boots enter your line of vision and you close your eyes. You can’t look at any part of him right now. It’s too painful.

Mando says your name softly and you can sense as he kneels down in front of you. You don’t reply. Gently, he moves your hands away from your face. You still refuse to look at him and he cups your chin, lifting your head up to his.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You wish you could resist, but you can’t. Not when he speaks to you in that soft tone. Not when he calls you that.

You meet his eye and see all the concern and worry he holds there. “I’m sorry, Mando. I should have listened to you.”

His hand slides up to hold your cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I could have at least told you why I didn’t want you coming in with me.”

You’re surprised at his apology. Two apologies he didn’t need to make in one day. This isn’t something you ever expected. You assumed he would still be full of heat and anger, not this careful kindness.

“Why didn’t you want me to come in?” you ask. You need to know the reason, need to know why it is he told you to stay behind. No matter how much the reason might hurt.

Mando sighs. “I didn’t want you to come in because I didn’t want anyone else looking at you.”

You pull back out of shock. “What?” Did you hear that correctly? Could that mean what you thought it might?

He takes off his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “What can I say, sweetheart? I’m a jealous man.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind. There are so many things you want to say, so many questions you want to ask, and yet none of them can find their way out. As a result, you do the only thing you can.

You lean in towards him, slowly, giving him enough time to stop you if he so chooses. He doesn’t though, instead following your lead and moving in closer. You carefully search his eyes for any answers they may hold. Your noses bump and you both pause. “Mando, I-”

He cuts you off. “Din. My name is Din.”

You close the gap and kiss him. The kiss is careful at first, as though you’re both still looking to confirm that yes, this is what you both want. Mand- Din’s lips are soft and sweet against yours and you melt as it’s everything you could have imagined and more. A small moan escapes you, one that you’re embarrassed about until it causes Din to deepen the kiss. Caution evaporates, quickly turning into passion as your tongues meet.

Din moves, getting up from the floor and pushing you back against the bed. His lips never leave yours, devouring you as though you might slip away at any moment. He gives your bottom lip a small nip, quickly soothing it with his tongue. You pull away, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“Is this okay?” Din asks, his voice low with desire. You respond by pulling him back down into another bruising kiss. Your positions shift as the kiss continues, Din’s knee finding its way between your legs as his arms wrap around you. Both of your hands have worked their way into his hair, something you’ve been fantasizing about for months now.

Din begins to kiss his way down your neck, leaving little love bites along the way. You gently tug on his hair, pulling a heavenly sound from him that only intensifies your pool of desire. Desperate for more, you move a hand down, seeking the hem of his shirt and slipping your hand underneath. His skin feels remarkable under your fingertips.

Din pulls away from your neck and quickly divests himself of his shirt. He allows you a moment to take him in, his lean physique flexing as he holds himself above you. Scars litter his body in various shapes and sizes, but you think they look beautiful against the glow of his honeyed skin. 

Taking the opportunity, you remove your top as well, leaving you in your basic everyday bra. You wish you had worn your other bra, the sexier one, but with the way Din is looking at you, you’re not sure it matters. His lips return to your body, working his way across any and all of your newly exposed skin. One hand splays on your waist, holding you, grounding Din against you.

“You’re so soft, sweetheart,” Din murmurs against you. His lips find their way up to your chest, placing careful kisses against the globes of your breasts. He pauses and looks up at you, seeking your permission. You arch your back, allowing Din access to slip a hand beneath you and undo the clasp.

He pulls the bra away from you and you flush under the intensity of his gaze. “Perfect, you’re perfect,” Din says before reoccupying his mouth with your breasts. It seems that he has a real oral fixation, not that you mind in the slightest. His warm mouth feels heavenly against you, licking and sucking wherever he can.

Din takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other. It’s the best thing you’ve felt in months, better than any of your late night fantasies when you would try to satisfy your growing want for the man currently giving you so much pleasure. As though your attempts could ever come close to the real thing.

Din releases your nipple with a pop and returns to your mouth, licking his way inside. His kiss alone is enough to make you see stars. It makes you forget any other kiss you’ve ever shared, enveloping you in him and him alone.

You pull back slightly from the kiss, unable to take more without further relief. “Din, please, I want you,” you pant into his mouth. Din growls, actually growls, at your words. It's a far hotter response than it should be.

“Yeah, sweetheart? What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.” His knee comes up and presses his thigh against you where you want him most, causing you to moan out his name. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

He’s trying to kill you, you think. Calling you a name like that. Sweet girl. It loops in your mind until Din’s fingers ghost over your nipples again. “I want you to touch me,” you tell him.

“I’m already touching you,” Din says. He’s a tease, you think, growing slightly frustrated with him. His thigh moves against you again though and he’s immediately forgiven.

“Please, Din,” you whine, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Thankfully he does, moving his leg away and quickly removing your pants. You already know you’re soaking, your panties feeling cold against you with the loss of the other cloth barrier.

Din pauses for another moment to take you in before moving. You’re nearly bare before him, almost entirely on display. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments, his hands parting your thighs. “So perfect, so beautiful, and all mine.” You can feel yourself clench at his words. No one has ever made you feel this way before. His stare only relaxes you more, his words feeling like a warm blanket wrapping around your fears and quieting them.

Din’s fingers brush against you through the thin cotton. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? I can already feel how wet you are.”

He continues to tease you, only leaving you capable of nodding your head back at him. His eyes catch yours, watching your reaction as he pushes the near useless fabric off to the side and pushes one finger between your folds. Just the small touch sets you aflame, pushing yourself down onto his hand, wanting more. 

His finger leaves you and you frown until you watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks your slick off of it. Din moans at the taste. “You taste better than you do in my dreams.”

He leans down to kiss you, sharing the taste of yourself while he pulls your panties off completely. They’re thrown haphazardly into the room, lost to be found for later. 

Din then moves himself between your legs, slowly working kisses down your body as he slides back onto his knees on the floor. He grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed with ease and starts nipping and kissing your inner thighs. Your hands wind back into his hair, while you lie in disbelief that this is really happening right now.

Gentle kisses are placed along your folds, Din moving back as you try to grind your hips down onto him. His eyes catch yours again, mouth hovering over your clit as he speaks. “I’m going to taste you until you cum on my face and then I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

This time you manage a response, frantic to let him know that’s exactly what you want. “Yes, please, I want you so badly, Din.”

It’s all he needs to hear. His mouth comes down on your clit, carefully playing with the bundle of nerves, making you cry out and clench around nothing. He pulls away slightly and then licks a long stripe from bottom to top, pausing again at your clit to give it a teasing suck. Your hands pull at his hair from the attention.

He moves back down, teasing your entrance with his mouth. He moans, lapping up your pussy, acting every part a man dying of thirst who’s found oasis at your core. You buck into him and his hands quickly wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place. Din wants to pleasure you, but on his own terms, at his own speed.

You can’t make a coherent thought as he continues to eat you out. Small snippets of words make their way out of you, none of them making any real sense in conjunction with one another. It’s not until his thumb finds your clit as he continues to lick, suck, and nip at you that you find complete words to shout. “Din, oh god, yes, right there, I’m so close...”

Moments later you feel the tension within you snap, crying out as your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure. Din continues to work you through your orgasm, only stopping when you physically push his head away from you. He trails hot kisses along your inner thighs again, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you taste, how perfect your pussy is.

As you come down from your high, Din removes the last of his clothes, finally freeing his stiff erection. Your breath catches as you take him in, your Adonis in the flesh. He’s gorgeous, you think, wondering what you did to get so lucky.

Then he’s back over top of you, kissing and sucking at your skin. Some of those are bound to leave marks for tomorrow but you don’t mind. You want everyone to see, for everyone to know that you’re his. No more mistaken assumptions about your relationship, you want it on display for the world.

You look down to catch a better glimpse of his cock, satiating the curiosity that’s plagued you for so long. He’s big. More than enough to fill you, possibly even more than you can handle. As wet as you are, you know you’ll need him to go slow, to slowly stretch you out before he can truly fuck you.

You tilt your hips, bumping against him, letting him know that you want him. “Do you want my fingers first?” Din asks. You know you should say yes, but you can’t imagine another moment without knowing what he feels like inside of you.

“No,” you tell him. “Just go slow.”

Din places a quick searing kiss against your lips and positions himself. The head of his cock presses against your slick entrance and you feel like you’re already seeing stars. Din is muttering in your ear, holding you tightly against him as he pushes into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good sweetheart. So tight and wet for me. I can’t wait to fill you up, to feel every inch of your sweet pussy.”

You nearly forget to breath as he slowly pushes in further. You can feel every inch of him and you only want more. Din’s stream of compliments are interrupted when he finally bottoms out in you, holding himself still as your walls clench and stretch around him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You turn your head and pull him into a blazing kiss, loving the way he feels filling you up. You wonder how you were ever satisfied with your fingers before when this had been next to you for so long. Din is apparently thinking along the same lines, whispering to you, “I’d have done this long ago if I knew you felt this good.”

You don’t even have time to consider the words as he slowly begins to move in you. The pleasure borders on agonizing as you begin to move your hips, encouraging him to move faster. Din responds quickly to your urging, setting a furious pace as he begins to lose all control. You know you’ll still be feeling him tomorrow and the thought makes you smile. You never want to go another day without a reminder of how he feels.

His thumb returns to your clit and you don’t have time to warn him before you’re thrown into another orgasm. Your walls clench around him and you lose yourself in the feeling of cumming on his cock. Din quickly follows, pulling out of you just in time to paint your stomach with ropes of his spend. You mourn the loss of him, but once Din finishes he buries himself back inside of you, causing another shock of pleasure to zing through your body.

Din rolls the both of you over, keeping himself sheathed in you, and allowing you to collapse on top of him. You’re both sweaty and panting, trying to come up with words. Din’s fingers lightly trace along your back, causing goosebumps to erupt across your flesh. You lift your head up from his chest in order to look at his face.

He’s completely debauched, sweat causing hair to cling to his forehead, the rest completely wild from your hands. His eyes are still blown wide, happily looking back at you. His lips are pink and swollen from all the kisses and licks he’s pressed into your skin. You know you can’t look much better than him.

You give a small clench around him and smile at the expression that runs across Din’s face. “I love the way you fill me,” you tell him. Din presses a loving kiss against your sweaty forehead.

“I never want to leave this perfect pussy of yours.” You can tell he means it too. If he could, he would stay buried in you forever. You love the way that sounds. His eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feeling of having you surround him.

“Din,” you say.

His eyes pop back open and refocus on you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

A smile blooms across your face. “Nothing, I just wanted to say it. Din. It suits you.” 

His name suits him in a different way than Mando does. Mando is the rough exterior, the front he puts up to the world. The one who punches men in bars for touching you and calling you pet names. The one that strikes fear into others, knowing that if he’s hot on their trail that they’re screwed. Din is the soft inside, the place where all of his ‘sweethearts’ originate, the cause for the hand holding and sparkling smiles. The man behind the armor that he presents to the world, the one who kisses and fills you up just right.

Din’s arms wrap around you tightly, clearly intent on never letting you go. You’re fine with that, letting it sink in that you’re finally laying in bed with the man who’s consumed your thoughts for months. A small, joyous giggle escapes you.

“What’s so funny?” Din asks.

“I thought you were going to leave me earlier. Now here I am, laying on top of you with your cock still inside of me.”

Din chuckles and you can feel it rumble in his chest. “I’m never letting you go sweetheart, no matter how much you piss me off.”

You fold your arms across his chest, letting your chin rest on your hands. “I am sorry. I just wanted you to notice me. I felt like you were treating me like a child,” you confess.

Din’s eyes widen a bit at your admission. “I always notice you, mesh’la. I never meant to treat you that way. I only want to keep you safe.”

“I know that now. Honestly, I feel so silly about it all.” He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back from your face. 

“Next time, I’ll take you in with me. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine.” He grinds his hips up into you to prove his point. It makes you squeal, causing a smirk to settle on Din’s lips. You give his cheek a small flick in retaliation but make no attempt to move.

You lay there for a little while longer, laying your head back down against Din’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat beneath you. His hands trace anywhere he can touch on you, intoxicated by having you so close against him. Eventually though, you feel the call to use the bathroom and can no longer ignore it.

Din is almost painful sliding out of you, but you’re more upset about the loss of having him buried in you. Your legs are shaky as you stand, managing to make it to the bathroom on wobbly knees. You take a moment to clean yourself up, running a damp cloth across your body. Exhaustion hits as you return to bed, crawling under the covers and into Din’s arms.

You begin to drift off when Din asks, “Why’d you get a single? Not that I’m complaining.”

“All they had left. Maybe it was a sign,” you mumble back.

Din chuckles and presses a kiss against your head. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

[xpeachesncream]

fiend | one shot

f i e n d ;

a person who wants something really bad, and keeps coming back for more.

because that's exactly what you are with your boss who dicks you down properly, time and time again.

pairing: assistant!reader x ceo!yg

genre: ceo au | smut

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, bondage, unprotected rough sex that makes you cry, multiple orgasms, breast play, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), pussy smacking, ass smacking, dirty talking, doggy style, choking, i think that’s it? 

note: uh, definitely filthiest smut i’ve ever written by far.. i’m sorry lmao i’m trying to experiment with smut and yoongi is the one i’ve decided to experiment with. again, pls excuse any errors. enjoy!

Your eyes drifted down the hallway, quickly making eye contact with your boss before you turned the corner. Soon after, you heard his foot steps following behind you, his fingers grazing the buttons of his blazer as he unbuttoned them and quickly loosened the tie around his neck as he continued to follow your path.

You bit your lip as you took one last look behind you, seeing him coming for you, the lust seeping through his skin. Apparent in his eyes. In his walk. The way he licked his bottom lip.

You turned the knob to a room, not knowing who's it was but you didn't give a single fuck. All these rich folk and their big ass homes, there was no way any of them truly and actually cared about each and every single room in the house. Before you could fully shut the door, your boss slips himself in, silently shutting it close for you and locking it.

"Running away from me?" Yoongi asks in your ear, his breath grazing your neck.

"There's no fun if I don't, right?" You slightly cock your head to the side, a smirk slowly growing at the corner of your lips. Suddenly, you feel the cold material from his tie wrap around your wrists.

"Hmm." He hums. "Now that I've got you though, you're not going anywhere." He says lowly, holding the tie tightly as he bends you forward onto the side of the drawer against the wall. He finishes tying his tie around your wrist, your breathing slightly hitching when he tightens it. You feel him lift the back of your dress up, your thong exposing your ass cheeks and your folds almost swallowing the material with how bent you are at the moment.

How you got here? You didn't know, but you also didn't care. Min Yoongi was one of the youngest thriving CEOs to exist and out of all applicants, he had chosen your innocent ass as his assistant. You literally had just graduated not too long ago, finding an ad for the position online as you nonchalantly surfed the web and did your rounds of poking for entry-level positions. It didn't contain many requirements, which sparked your interest. But you figured you'd never land the job having interviewed amongst other women and men who had been executive assistants previously for months, even years.

Little did you know that you'd star in your own Fifty Shades of Grey movie, and honestly, all this shit was worth it to you. You didn't care about the dirty ass looks the rest of the staff would give you. You didn't care about the shit talking they'd do. You were never one to worry about little things like that; You did you and you carried your own shit. You knew the women were jealous, and you knew they wanted to be you.

Why would you be mad about that?

It ultimately became Yoongi's weakness. You just had it like that.

You'd watch as they'd take your job and prepare Yoongi's coffee in the morning, hoping to bat an eyelash and shower him in compliments. You sat at your desk smirking to yourself at how hard they tried. Sometimes Yoongi would acknowledge it, most of the time - he didn't. Because he was fixated on you and you had yet to learn that.

He wasn't one to build relationships with his staff, he made sure to keep his personal life separate from his career. He didn't talk much in the beginning, having random people train you before he began to step in and show you the ropes himself. He'd come off cold at first, barely showing any expressions. Barely acknowledging you by name, even. But as time went on, you were able to exceed his expectations, doing things before he'd even ask and you found him slowly unraveling around you. He'd tell you goodmorning as soon as he'd catch sight of you at your desk. He'd ask how your day was. He'd ask for your opinion on certain things. He'd ask for you to fully handle his schedule because he loved the way you treated him so delicately, moving appointments around just so he'd have time to breathe and eat. Then, you'd catch his smile. His laugh. How he'd shower you in compliments, talking about how nice you looked that day. He'd leave you notes on your desk, thanking you for your hard work.

If you weren't mistaken, you had felt a small crush developing for your boss. But, you knew you had to keep it professional. That is - until Min Yoongi had caught on and acted on it. He stood behind you as he looked over your shoulder at the computer screen. He had one hand planted on your desk, while the other rested on the top of your chair. You looked up at him from your seat, his eyes locked onto yours. He edged his face closer to yours, locking your lips with his. You couldn't help but gasp as you quickly pulled away, pushing yourself off after reality had settled in. But he had grabbed your wrist ever so gently, shaking his head as he told you to stop holding back.  Something so innocent had turned lustful, full of desire and passion. You gave in and allowed him to get a taste of all of you. Once you were in, there was no going back. He fucked you so good that you could barely walk, fucking you in all places you could imagine - his office, his car, his home, his kitchen, balcony, now this party that was flooded with such highly important people. All you wanted was him, all you craved for was him; Just as he had craved for you every second of his day.

That's why your ass was bent over on someone's expensive ass black dresser, Yoongi's tie tied tightly around your wrists as he swipes his fingers down his tongue before giving your pussy a good smack. You let out a small whimper as he pulls your panties down and throws them aside, his tongue licking a stripe in between your folds.

"You gonna be a good girl for me?"

"Yes." You whimper once again when you feel him spread your cheeks to take full advantage of the position you were in. You feel his tongue gently probe your entrance before you hear him suck you dry, a slight chuckle releasing from his lips as he pulls away and starts to insert two fingers to stretch you out. His long fingers start slowly, Yoongi full out enjoying the sound of your wetness every time he pulls in and out. He curves his digits upwards, causing you to twitch on the drawer from how deep he's tickling your core.

"Ohhhhh, Yoongi, please." You mewl. Your hands are slightly getting tired from being held behind you, but at the same time, you're so fucking turned on at how rough he's handling you - like he had been wanting you all night. Which, he has. He couldn't believe the audacity you had to show up to this party in that tightly fitted dress, hugging you in all the right places. You caught on quick, teasing him throughout the night by grazing your hand against his, brushing your fingers across his manhood area ever so gently in passing, whispering how good he looked in his suit.

"Stay still. You said you'd be good." He says, quickening his pace while he held the tie down to keep your hands in place. The faster he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the quicker you feel yourself coming undone.

"Hohhhh, fuck." You moan. "I'm close."

"Gonna cum around these fingers, baby?" You want to hold on so badly, but you can't. And you don't. You find yourself trembling on top of the dresser, Yoongi licking up your mess and completely disregarding how overly sensitive you are right now. The pain turns into more pleasure for you, and you want nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

But he has other plans first. He wastes no time bringing you back up to standing position by holding his tie, aggressively getting you on your knees in the middle of the room.

"You better make good use of those hands when I let them go." He says, undoing his tie. You slightly wince at how sore you are from keeping your hands in one position for some time, but you brush it off as Yoongi stands in front of you, ready for you to unzip his pants and let his aching dick free. He loves watching you suck him on your knees, the sight of your pretty face and his dick going in and out of your mouth being something out of this world for him. He ain't ever gotten head so good until he's gotten it from you.

And so you're craving to make him feel just as good as he made you feel, gripping his hardened member when it springs free from his boxers, your tongue following its length like a guide. His dick wasn't the thickest, but it was long and that shit never failed to make you cum time and time again. That shit never failed to tear you up. You suck his tip, your tongue swirling around the pooling pre-cum before you pull back with a pop. You watch from below as he tilts his head back in pleasure, small moans leaving his mouth as his hands are tangled in your hair. He begins to lower you onto his dick, steadying the pace before he wants you to start taking him all the way. His tip tickles the back of your throat while he keeps you there for a good minute, tears streaming from your eyes as you choke on him, saliva trailing from your mouth and his tip once he tugs your head back.

"So fucking pretty when you take my shit like that." He smirks before biting his bottom lip, his grey hair lightly brushing past his eyes. You swallow him whole a couple of times more, more saliva trailing down his dick and between your mouth and his tip before he's satisfied with how fucked out you look simply from taking his dick down your throat. "What do you want me to do to you, pretty girl?"

"Fuck me, please." You whine. He grips your chin and stands you up to eye level.

"You want me?" You nod. "Tell me how much you want me, babygirl."

"I want you so bad, Yoongi. Please. Wanna feel you."

He smirks. "Gonna make you feel good, sweetheart. Don't worry about that." He doesn't hesitate to carry you, albeit he struggles a bit with his pants below his ankles, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso before dropping you onto the bed. You wiggle yourself up a little higher before he crawls on top, his lips pressing against yours. The kiss quickly becomes messy, your hands getting tangled in his hair as his tongue sensually caressed your mouth. You moan into it while his hands work to bring the bottom portion of your dress above your waist. He pulls down your top portion just enough to expose your bare breasts, his hands giving them a good squeeze before taking your nipples in between his fingers and giving them a good pinch. You let out a small cry as he pulls away from the kiss, your nipples feeling incredibly hard and sensitive from his touch. He brings his mouth down to one nipple at a time, toying with it for a second by using his tongue to flick the bud around before sucking.

"That feels so good." You let out breathily. He lets out a small moan as he sucks on the other before bringing his mouth back up to yours. You wiggle yourself onto him, feeling his tip graze your folds, driving you insane. The heat is pooling in your core, almost unbearable at the fact.

"You want this dick in you now?" He whispers in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe right after. You let out a hiss as you nod, letting out a small whimper as you watch him pump his dick a few times below you. He inserts the tip, your mouth slightly open at how fucking good he feels slowly filling you up. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you grip onto his shirt while he bottoms out, the sound of your wetness bouncing off of the walls while he rolls his hips into you, working inwards and outwards. He keeps your legs open with his hands, making sure your wide enough to feel every inch of him inside of you.

"Fuuuuck, Yoongi." You moan. "Give it to me." He picks up his pace. "Just like that, just like that." You repeatedly whine until you can't cry it out any longer. The pleasure completely takes over your body as you bounce up and down in his grip, his eyes marveling at your titties bouncing around while he fucks you senselessly.

"Always so good to me." He groans. "Taking me in so perfectly. I wish you could see how fucking good you look crying out for me." You were absolutely perfect to him, in every way possible. The music outside is so loud at this point that you're sure no one can hear you yelling his name in this room. Your nails are digging into his clothed arms, his hands now making his way up to your neck to slightly grip onto it while he aggressively hammers into you.

"I'm gonna cum again." You manage to spit out as his hands are barely giving you room to speak. Sooner or later, one to two more powerful thrusts in, you feel yourself spiraling out of control, groaning as you tremble underneath him. He bites onto his bottom lip as he slows his pace to help you ride out your high and places a sloppy kiss onto your lips.

"Turn around for me." He says, you quickly obeying silently. He has you on your fours towards the edge of the bed, his tie now wrapped around your mouth and in between your teeth. He tugs on it ever so slightly to the side, getting a good look at your face before planting a kiss on on your neck. He quickly swipes his hand down your pussy, knowing full well how sensitive you still are. You twitch at the sensation, Yoongi letting out a small chuckle at how sexy and vulnerable you are right now. He slips himself in, letting out a moan at how wet you are around him. He holds onto his tie as he fucks into you quick, tears streaming down your cheeks. You let out a loud moan, but it's muffled through the material of his tie, enjoying every bit of the pain and pleasure your boss is bringing you at this moment. He grips your ass with his free hand before giving it a good smack, groans leaving his mouth as he pumps in and out.

"Who's pussy is this?" He leans forward and asks in your ear.

"Yours." You mumble.

"Who's?"

"Youuuuurs." You cry.

"Shit, babygirl. I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good." He leans back, his high coming to a close. Your eyes shut close as you feel your walls constrict around him at the same time he lets himself go, his cum coating your walls while you coat his dick. He lets the tie go gently, allowing you to breathe through your high, huffing and puffing to regulate yourself. You let out a small gasp feeling him remove himself from inside of you, cum leaking out of your throbbing pussy. You can barely fix your position, your legs trembling and weak from how fucked out you are. Yoongi takes a napkin from the nearby dresser, wiping you clean before getting himself together and helping you up.

"So much for enjoying the party like you wanted." You tease as you fix yourself in the full length mirror near the bed. Yoongi stands behind you, adjusting his blazer and shirt and tossing his tie aside since it had been drenched from your saliva.

"Didn't have to be such a tease."

"I thought that's what you wanted." He comes from behind you, lowering himself to your ear.

"You know I always want you though, so there's no need to be one. You ever think about that?" He says lowly near your ear as he lifts up your long lost panties with his finger.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (6/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.1k words

Bucky couldn't recall the last time he had a genuine conversation with someone who wasn't his best mates, Sam and Steve. He enjoyed your company and as much as he hated to let his guard down, he wanted to do just that with you. You were everything that Bucky thought he would find repulsive, but he couldn’t help but be attracted towards you. And for the first time he wanted more, he didn't want a one-night stand or a fling with you, he wanted to know you. He admired your courage and bravery, but mostly he admired you. You, with all your stupid yet funny jokes and spontaneity; he liked you more than he would like to admit.

But there was this thing that you were his employee and one meal doesn't count as a date. It was just a meal. But yet, Bucky wanted it to be more. He had never been so intrigued by another person, but it was also clear that you didn't reciprocate his interest. And Bucky would have all of his 206 bones crushed out rather than giving his heart to someone only for it to be not requited. 

So, when you walked into the club the next day, pretending as if nothing had changed, Bucky knew where your relationship lay with him, and he was content with it. Okay, he wasn't content with it, but he knew he couldn't force something that wasn't there. He would choose to be in your life as your boss, acquaintance, or maybe even a friend if he's lucky enough than to not be in your life at all. 

***

When you got settled behind the counter, your mood wasn't that great. It could be because you weren't drunk this time, or maybe because you enjoyed your meal with your boss a little too much for your liking. You wouldn't call it a date, but it sure as hell was a lot better than all the dates or meals you've had with people.

Your good mood was definitely not because of the fact that your mother called only to inform you that this family friend's son is not going to wait around long, and you should at least find a stable job if you can't find a suitable boyfriend. Then she started boasting about your sister and her amazing profession and how she and her husband save lives every day. And you might have had enough of her bullshit and lied that you indeed have a stable job and relationship. None of which is true. 

Bartending only pays the bills, and you haven't had a relationship in years and none of them were serious. You always ran away from any sort of commitment because you knew you would eventually have to introduce your partner to your family and nobody deserves to see that circus, and you told yourself that you're doing a favor to those previous partners by leaving them or as your friends like to call ghosting them. In your defense, dealing with you and your family is more horrific than any scary movie. 

Well, until now because tomorrow your sister and her family are coming to meet your partner and take you back to your parents' place for the weekend. The only problem is that you lied to them about your job and your partner. The worst part is that both of them are pretty non-existent.

"Hey, How are you feeling? " Peter asked you, noticing how you still weren't paying attention to the customer in front of you. 

“Great, not drunk, if that's what you're wondering.” 

“I'm fine," you retorted, glancing at the concerned look Peter was giving you. You quickly took the customer's order and proceeded to make the drink. 

"The last time you said you were fine, you threatened to kill a dude," Pietro interjected, enjoying the faux disbelief that landed on your face. You looked over to Wanda for help, but she just chuckled at her brother's antics.

The rest of the night at work went by as it usually did. Pietro making a sarcastic remark here and there, Wanda countering her brother with a snarky response, you were laughing your ass off watching the duo and Peter awkwardly tried to suppress his amusement. In a weird custom, these three coworkers were the only thing that felt normal. 

By the time you were done, it was mostly you left like always, with the addition of security guards that James added since Rumlow. You wanted to talk to him, especially after the wonderful not date you had, but the situation with him was not under your control anymore and it released from your grasp which scared the shit out of you. If James and you had met under different circumstances, then you would have tried to date him, but with him being your boss and the whole Rumlow thing made everything so complicated, and you didn't have time for any sort of relationship complication in your life. At least that's what you kept telling yourself.

When you were done with your shift and were about to leave, a very familiar voice called for you. You've been trying to ignore him all day and just when you thought you've succeeded, he catches up to you. 

The thing that scared you with James was that you felt safe, too safe with him. You were scared that you were going to become dependent on him for your security, and you hated that. You always despised women who weren't anything except their husband's wife, as if their whole identity was being a man's property. Furthermore, you knew the only thing to be blamed here was patriarchy and men, but you decided that you weren't going to be someone's property, you were going to be your own person. 

And you rebelled a lot to reach here, dyed your hair blue just because your mom told you not to, pursued your dream just because your dad told you to follow a secure nine to four job, left ex-partners because they told you what to and what not to wear. And some part of you knew that James wasn't like that. He wouldn't exploit you and your weaknesses. 

But what you didn't realize was that these were merely excuses that your brain mustered up because you were too scared to be dumped. A long time ago, you decided that it is better to leave than be left. And James — well, James made you feel things that you didn't want to chase. You feared commitment and abandonment too much to go after a guy. 

Your thoughts were brought to a halt when he held your wrist gently and called your name again. Reluctantly, you turned around, pretending to be surprised as if you didn't see him. 

He obviously caught on to you. "Why are you ignoring me?" 

"What?" You scoffed in feign disbelief, taking your hand away from his grasp and setting it on his shoulder. "Why would I ignore you, bud?"

Bud? What the fuck? , both of you thought at the same time.

Carefully, he eyed your hand and then you, "Okay, come on, I'll drop you home."

"No, James, it's fine, I can go on my own." 

"Yes, yes, you are an independent, strong woman but come on," He teased, but you didn't seem to pick up the glint of mischief in his eyes. 

You heard that as a taunt, a taunt your father has told you an ample number of times, that you indeed can never be anything on your own if you don't have a man beside you. While you were lost in your thoughts, James was moving towards his car, assuming that you were following him.

 "But I am," you argued. 

Your voice sounded distant to him, he turned around and walked towards you. "You are what?" 

"I am strong and independent."

"Yes, you are," he agreed as a matter of factly because it was the truth. He had never met someone so strong who would leave behind their whole life to pursue their dreams. He, being the mob boss, and filthy rich couldn't do the same, and he may not tell you this, but he admired you so much. 

Once you got the assurance you needed, you started walking towards his car. "Are you coming or not?" and he followed you. 

Of course, you knew you were strong, but your life had not been going as smoothly as you anticipated. You're stuck in writer's block, your family interference and lack of trust in you hurts like a bitch. You were somewhat crushing on your boss, and you blurted random embarrassing stuff in front of him without thinking. You know, normal crush things. 

When you reached the apartment, he insisted on dropping you to your floor. The car ride was spent in peaceful silence, but the time spent in the elevator was everything but that. No, the fifteen seconds were spent in James fidgeting beside you because he wanted to say something but didn't know how to. 

After you unlocked your door, he finally spoke up. "Um, I was just wondering whether, you know, - I had fun last night and I don't have smooth conversations with people - um, I don't know, I'd like to go out with you again," he didn't finish, but your eyebrows shot up to your forehead and he quickly backpedaled. " Not as a date, if that's what you want. It could be a meal shared between you and your boss. Not that I'm implying that you are obligated to go with me just because I'm your boss. I'm asking this as a stranger, well, not as a stranger but as a friend, I think."

"James,” you spoke softly, and he could feel the denial coming his way.” I had fun too, but you're my boss. This is highly unprofessional."

He signed in defeat and looked at you one last time. There was so much he wanted to say, he wanted to tell you that he enjoyed your company more than he should. He wanted to tell you that he liked you. He wanted to tell you that he wanted to see where this thing would lead with you, but he knew better than that. At the end of the day, you were his employee and if you were to get involved with him in any form, it would only end in your tarnished reputation. So, he nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak much after the clear rejection. "I understand."

"Y/N! “

Both of you turned towards the source of the voice and frowned. He frowned because he was confused, whereas you, oh, you weren't confused, you were furious at the person standing there and at yourself for forgetting about their arrival.

 "Hi, Carol. I thought you were coming tomorrow," you stated, faking a smile, and everyone in the area could see your distressed attempt at looking excited.

 Well, everyone except your sister because she shrieked with happiness and ran towards you to throw her arms around you. Her husband followed behind and gave you and James an awkward smile.

 "I just couldn't wait to meet my baby sister and we'll take you guys back for the weekend."

You guys, James and you thought at the same time. James looked at the side of your face for an explanation, and you kept looking forward at your sister, avoiding his gaze.

Fuck, you forgot about that. How can you forget about that? You mentally cursed yourself and didn't say anything because you didn't know what to do. 

Your sister picked your silence as her cue to talk and pointed her index finger at James, who was standing beside you now. "Is this him?"

Your sister looked at you, expecting an answer, your brother-in-law looked at you with something called, please hurry up, I just want to go back to the hotel. James looked at you with bewilderment. 

You sighed and took your boss's hand in yours, who also happens to be the most dangerous person in the town. He complied, holding on to you tightly, running his thumb on the back of your hand in a soothing manner. It felt like the most obvious thing as if your hand was made to be held by him. The thought sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, but you were too stubborn to accept it.

"Yes," you finalized. "This is James, my boyfriend."

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