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huicitawrites · 11 months

Text

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O' Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

T/W: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spiderverse.

Status: rewritten.

Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,4k

"Y/N! Get. Back. Here. NOW", swinging away from an infuriated Miguel O'Hara wasn't something you had planned or ever thought would occur, never entertained the thought of it. At least not until now, as you desperately attempted to get away from him and somehow escape him- for your dimension-travel watch (as wild as the concept of it sounded) had been snatched by the same man that was madly hunting you down.

How did it even all come to this? Let's rewind, back to the beginning.

Part I

After being bitten by a radioactive spider in a school trip to Alchemax at the young age of 15, you obtained enhanced spider-like abilities: a sixth sense for perceiving danger, incredible reflexes, amazing parkour skills, extraordinary strentgh and flexibility.

And for the past ten years, you have been New York's one and only Spider-Woman.

Learning to use your powers was a whole trip on itself. They awakened rather clumsily -nothing a leap of faith could not fix- as you began to grasp the ropes of being a masked hero in your teenage years [it's safe to say that your teenage years were truly a heck of a rollercoaster].

Handling a double-life was not easy, that is something you have learned with your ten years experience. You saved a bunch of people and thus many lives, you won many times and saved the city countless more. Yet you also earned a bunch of dangerous criminals and villains tailing behind your back that would want to kill you without hesitation and harm you in any way possible.

In spite of the times you were beaten down, left made a mess in the ground, or at the brink of death- you would always get back up because you were Spider-Woman.

Sometimes, getting back up was hard.

The weight of the sake of the city was on your shoulders. And sometimes, that weight crushed you. When you lost your parents it was devastating, because not only had you failed as a hero, but as a daughter.

[Your dad perished in an attempt to save you from an attack of one of many enemies- the Green Goblin . You two happened to be on a ‘father and daughter’ outing in a nice dinner when the Green Goblin tried to draw out Spider-Woman from her hiding place in Brooklyn (unbeknownst of your true identity and much to your own misery and guilt.) After battling the Green Goblin and imprisoning him, you rose with your dead father in your arms, and an huge crack in your heart that would leave a deep scar.

Months later, your mother's followed suit. That day was chaotic, panic filled the streets of New York as The Rhino, a veteran soldier with super human strentgh and a high-techno advanced armor resembling a rhinoceros, laid waste to the city. You were evacuating all civilians nearby, swinging across and into buildings, picking up and scooping anyone you could encounter and putting them out of danger.

It happened as you held falling debris with your arms. You picked up wailing in between the many cries of people, and your spider-sense guided your eyes up from the ground.

A child, no older than five, was crying. He was glued to the floor, too overwhelmed by the calamity surrounding him. A wall from a building was falling on him and your heart beat raced. You still had people below you that were crawling out and the child was a or two block away. Your thoughts raced in your head, you had to save everyone, down to the last live.

"Come on, come on, come on" you muttered in between gritted teeth as you gathered power and lifted the debris into the air. With the help of your web shooter, you pulled all the remaining civilians out and casted aside the courtesy of double-checking as you swinged toward the child.

You could see how the wall fell over him, and you reached out your arm with your forearm out desperately, attempted to pull him out with your web but the wall was already about to touch his head and-

She pushed the child out of the danger, motherly instincts impulsing her feet at the cost of her own life. The child was pushed onto you and you brought him flush against you with your web, arms encasing him as you witnessed the wall collapse on her.

In shock and disbelief, you gently lowered the child to the ground and ran to the fallen wall. Once again in despair, you clawed through the debris and searched for your mother’s body.

You found her bruised and crushed, her face deformed. You brushed the dust off it. Her pained groan was faint, and you begged her right there and then not to leave you. Not to leave you alone, again.

“Is the kid al…?”

“Yes! Don’t, don’t talk. Help, help is coming. You have to stay, you have to.” But her eyes were already fading, and her limbs growing weak. Your disguised hand snatched up hers and you cried,

“Mom!”

She recognized your voice, the one she cherished the most. Her fading eyes gathered all the warmth they could muster and she reached out a quivering hand to your cheek. Her fingers slid into your mask, and she felt your tear stained skin.

“Ah my baby…[Y/n]…I’m so proud... Your father would be so proud... keep it up”. Her last words were voiced with strain, but you would always remember them.]

They became the fuel for your mission, and no matter how many times you were beaten to the ground and wounded to no end, you stood back up. You would save everyone else, no more deaths, you swore upon your parents' last moments.

Now in your adult life, you found yourself in a stable life besides the implications your side hustle not-so-side -hustle brought. You had an adequate job as a writer for small titles in a decent newspaper, and you had a department you shared with your childhood best friend, Peter Parker [who eventually became your tech-desk guy. Hiding your true identity from your best friend and roommate would have never lasted long anyway. You remember clearly the day you climbed into the living's window, beat up, bruised and tired, when the lights suddenly turned on and a Peter with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised was waiting for you like a parent whose child was past curfew. You were without your mask on. Nonetheless, after stuttering uncontrollably and failing to explain and just simply breaking down in front of him. Without saying any words, he took out the first aid kit and reassured you with a smile. You were so grateful to him.]

So now here you were, crouching on the top of The Clock Tower, the moonlight casting its light on your back and darkening your silhouette. Earlier in the day you dealt with some thugs and minor crimes, but since the sun fell nothing happened. That was odd, NYC was never quite, least of all times at night.

But your spider-sense was running, not rampant, but definetely there like annoying itch on the nape. Something had to be off, you knew it.

"Um, I'm not picking up anything, (Y/n). Maybe you should be calling it a night, you've been doing good work so far. You did lower the crime rate, after all."

"You sure Pete? There's this feeling in my gut and-"

"Your 'spidey- thingy' ?".

"Spider-sense, spidey-thingy sounds dumb" you answered with a small groan, rolling your eyes although he could not see the.

He chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he turned serious " but I'm not getting anything from anywhere. From police radios and stations to our own hidden cameras"

"Nothing? Sure?"

"I mean everything is awfully quiet now that I think about it... All I can pick up is glitching, let's see... let me do my thing and-" you could hear frantic typing through the comms of your suit within the mask, you could even picture Peter hunching and fixing his eyeglasses.

What he said left you pondering. Glitching? It couldn't be a coincidence that all the radio signals he could pick up were glitching.

"Aha! Here it is, your spidey-thingy was right." this time, you chuckled as if saying 'see?'. He continued, "-this should be a very hidden signal from the special forces team. Seems classified, man they should really put a little more money into whatever software they use to protect their privacy" and he pushed on one final 'enter', the glitching and static got louder almost startling you to which your friend apologized softly, but it evened out.

"Report the situation, Lieutenant Stacy"

"Requesting back-up right now, suspect is armed with advanced equipment, we are at the Port, South East, many of my men and women have been wounded and- oh, shit, shit" The man's words died down with the sound of something big crashing and breaking.

Well, that's your cue. You stood up on your toes and balanced you body weight forward, diving to the ground. With your limbs extended, you stretched your forearm and extended your wrist, web shooting out from the slick web shooter Peter designed.

Swinging from building to building under the night sky, you jumped across billboards and slid past tight spaces as you were heading to the location of the conflict, and the closer you swinged, the wilder your spider sense got.

When you arrived at the port, you saw a SWAT truck that was flipped over, it had a huge dent in the form of a what seemed to be a claw mark, and the windows had been broken. There were a few members on the floor, and you noticed there were two trying to lift the heavy vehicle.

"Let me help," you announced your presence and they whipped their heads. Their faces were glistening with sweat and dirt, and you could notice their equipment was damaged. You crouched and lifted the truck, there was one member there below, and his leg was twisted the other way, but he was breathing- well, panting.

Without further a do, the soldiers went and dragged out their friend. A soldier's face lit up, though they seemed hesitant [after all, your line of work was kind of controversial among the government and its forces] but they were thankful. "Thank you, Spider-Woman", their voice was genuine and you smiled below the mask.

"Your welcome, leave it to me" winking at them through your lense, you nodded and propelled yourself to the ceiling of the warehouse. You noticed a roof canopy at the center, lucky you, and brought the palm of your hand to it. Utilizing your sticky finger pads, you carefully removed a pane of glass and entered the building without making a sound.

"Be careful, please" Peter voiced with worry.

You hanged the web from it's strongest point at the peak, and slowly lowered yourself down until your hand gently brushed the cold floor . You got off the web and crawled in direction of the tingling of the spider-sense. You found some warehouse crates, pressed your back onto them, slowly leaning your head out to take a peak.

A man stood there, a middle aged man by the looks of him. He had a round pair of black sunglasses on and a large leather coat on, but the most outstanding feature was apparently behind him. Four metal tentacle-like arms sprouting from his back, with threatening looking claws. That had to be the thing that put such a dent in a SWAT vehicle, the advanced equipment you heard of in the interception.

He was ranting about something, speaking to himself. "The power of the sun at the palm of my hand, only to be ruined by that fucking-"

‘What is this man even talking about…’

His words died down in your ears as it took a few seconds for your spider-sense to peak, and you scrunched your face features. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes squinted, cheeks squeezing up and causing the lenses of the mask to stretch and flatten.

"(Y/n)? Found anything yet?" Peter inquired.

"This man... I think I know him... but also not..." At this point, your spider-sense was rampant. Your gaze still confused as you tried to decipher him. Your spider sense was alerting you of this oddly familiar feeling. It was someone you had dealt with before, but also someone new. Simply off-putting.

Then the realization fell on you, his tentacle-like arms.

"Is that Doc Ock!?" Without getting a hold of your reaction, you accidentally raised your voice and revealed your location. Your spider-sense tingled again, this time, sensing imminent danger as you backflipped and dodged the incoming attack. The crate you were hiding behind of was broken into splinters.

"Come on out, Spider-Man!" he shouted, his voice in pure anger.

Spider-Man? As long as you remember, you never referred to your disguised self as Spider-Man...

"It's Spider-Woman, mind you" You revealed yourself off the shadows, and the light basked in your costume, revealing its signature colors and design. "Do I know you by chance?" you tited your head, inquisitive in your tone as you were trying to figure things out.

The man's expression fell, and his rage was replaced by annoyance.

"Is this some kind of sick joke, Spider-Man? Have you forgotten the name of the man whose work of life you ruined, Otto Octavius." His tongue rolled of his name with spite and you widened your eyes.

"Doc Ock? But, you are different. You are totally human". Last time you checked, Doc Ock was a mad scientist that turned himself half-octopus by bioengineering his genetics in the name of some sort of sick evolution idea. He had tried to turn the city into mutants like himself for 'the sake of humanity's future' and you managed to stop his plans. Furthermore, he had been sent to a high-security prison for villains, where an anti-serum is being developed to turn him back and halt his aggression.

"Are you pulling my leg Spider-Man?" He said with disbelief, and he began to appear more and more angry by the second. He muttered something below his breath, and you swore you saw one of his tentacles turn toward his face as if it were sentient and listening...

"I've told you it's Spider-Woman." You huffed out, chest puffing out. You had a bad feeling about this...

The man's hand ran down his own face and he groaned, visibly tired. "Well, whatever, but you do appear to be an ally of Peter Parker's, your costume and your name leave little room for further speculation". The mention of your friend raised up your guard, how did he know Pete? Any doubts and hesitation erased themselves of your mind, for your friend could be in lethal danger.

"Oh? What's the matter, 'Spider-Woman'," he sneered.

"Picked right on the web, hmm?" He edged on, a dangerous smirk dancing on his face and two claws raising up in the air, ready to pounce.

There was not much to it, as you jumped sideways to dodge whatever that clawed-tentacle-armor was. You found yourself right back at the gig, fighting a villain as the one and only Spider-Woman.

Or so you thought.

A/n: Hi! So when I first saw this fictional man I KNEW I had to write about him, originally, it was going to be a long one shot, but I decided to break it into parts. I expect this story to be up to 3 parts or 4 as most. Anyhow, I hope you come to like it!, and sorry for the long- ass intro, I really wanted to dwelve deeper into reader as a spider person. Next is the real thing. I have seen some people have asked me to tag them, so don’t be shy to ask too!

#yandere #yandere x reader #self insert #yandere blog #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #miguel o hara x reader #yandere miguel #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o' hara x reader #across the spiderverse #yandere across the spiderverse #female reader #yandere spiderman 2099 #yandere spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader

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modelbus · 3 months

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MODEL HELP-

i just typed a long ass message and it all deleted itself-

question, do you think you want to do another part on cut chaos? No pressure ofc, but I’d be cool! (I have a bunch of ideas for it I’ll send seperate (maybe) feel free to ignore them but like free crappy inspo man)

Request: Y/N is a part of SBI but they aren’t treated that great by the fandom or really the rest of the group. Its not like SBI MEANS to disregard the ‘hate’ towards Y/N like its nothing but they tend to dismiss or just ignore it, of course, they are still really close and care about Y/N, it still just hurts a little that they ignore it. But where the creators don’t realise they’re neglecting their friends emotions, the fans? They are fully aware they constantly joke about Y/N being the worst member of SBI. They are fully aware they also always ‘joke’ about forgetting Y/N exists. They are fully aware that despite Y/N being in as many if not more ‘SBI’ streams or videos than the other creators, they act as if they’re not actually a part of SBI. They are fully aware many of them aren’t joking when they say Y/N is not a member of SBI, or when they say they wish Y/N would stop showing up to streams. They are fully aware that the main ‘joke’ people think of when they think SBI is something along the lines of; “Whos Y/N?” or “Y/N is SO the middle child of the SBI, we all forget them!” or “Y/N? Ohhh you mean the one that’s annoying but its not funny!” .. When the SBI are streaming bedwars 2v2v2’s with a random viewer each game and that viewer happens to end up on Y/N’s team (and be an asshole) they, of course, decide to complain that out of every member they could be teamed with, they got the worst member of SBI! (Even though Y/N and techno practice pvp together regularly and the only person in SBI Y/N can’t kill is techno) While Y/N does what they always do and laughs it off with a SICK comeback (despite how much it hurts when they realise they expected that kind of reaction to being teamed with them), the rest of the SBI seems to snap as though that was their final straw (starting with tommy yelling ‘THATS BULLSHIT’ or smth) and all collectively go on a rant about how shitty most(?) fans treat Y/N, to Y/N’s surprise most of all of the fives chats are agreeing..? Y/N starts to realise maybe they aren’t as hated as they thought.. and maybe, just maybe, they are a lot more loved then they realised.

MODEL I’M SO SORRY MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS SO LONG-

Its funny how I’m not motivated to write actual fics but I can write 800 word requests-

LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK!!!

✨🌌🌙 Annon-

I’d love to write more for Cut Chaos! My writing has been all over the place lately because I’ve been really busy (school stuff :/) but I do enjoy writing for that (not-so) little series

Pairing: Gn!Reader X CC!SBI (Tommy, Techno, Phil, Wilbur)

Found Fury

You aren’t unfamiliar with the term unwanted. If anything, you’ve burrowed yourself a home in the word, splitting it in two. Accepted yourself for what you are.

Quite honestly, if there was a record for ‘most hated SBI member’ it’d go to you. Actually, it wouldn’t, considering how most people don’t even see you as a member of SBI. The forgettable middle child, adrift alone.

There wasn’t much you could do except accept it.

Bothering the others with it was unfathomable. Besides, they’ve surely seen some hint of it. They aren’t quite that blind, even if Wilbur and Techno do wear glasses. And, seeing as how they haven’t said a word… maybe it’s best if you didn’t nag about it.

It’s not that you’re partial to the so-called ‘suffering in silence,’ because you really aren’t. But you’re uniquely acquainted with brushing things off, pretending that your friends’ continued silence doesn’t sting and that being excluded from the group isn’t heart-wrenching. In the end, who really cares what strangers online think?

You can ignore the messages in your inboxes. The emails to your professional email asking if you’re really a part of SBI. All the replies to all your posts. Every fucking comment on every video you’re in.

Sometimes, it piles around you so high that you can’t see past it. Words strung together to form sentences that rephrase ‘Who even are you’ a thousand times. Or the more creative, ‘How do you manage to be unfunny AND annoying’ mixed with a side of scorn. It’s worse when it trends on Twitter after a stream, but who are you to complain?

After all, you’re just lucky to be following SBI around according to Twitter. Blessed to be in their fucking presence.

For the most part, you just hire more mods. And they’re pretty strict with bans, so your chat tends to err on the positive side. Everyone else’s? Well, let’s just say there’s a reason you don’t have their chats open.

Today is no exception.

Bedwars with viewers, everyone being randomly set into 2v2v2. Tommy’s idea, although he’s lost every round that Techno wasn’t on his team. That was mostly due to you sneak attacking him while he targeted Techno, but still.

“POTATOMAN!” Tommy shouts, practically bursting your eardrums. “YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE!”

“Christ, mate.” Phil laughs.

“…my ears…” Techno mourns quietly, making both you and Wilbur laugh.

“We’re getting in! We’re getting in!” Tommy says excitedly, and everyone spawns into their teams.

Your heart sinks when you realize you’re with the viewer on white team. Their character, a potato in a suit, stares at you as you walk backward to collect iron and gold from the generator.

You’ve been lucky up until this far, always getting placed with one of the others. Logically, you knew you’d eventually be placed with the random, but part of you still hoped. Still dared to relax into the game.

Potatoman’s character stands there for a few minutes, and you buy wool with your iron.

“Funnel me the gold, Tommy.” Techno says calmly.

“No! Fuck off! This is my gold!”

“You’re just going to walk off the edge with it!”

“No I won’t! When have I ever?!”

“Last game.” Wilbur inputs.

“Wha— I was pushed! That’s different!”

A message pops up in game chat, and your eyes flick to it for a moment, too busy with building a bed defense. When you realize it isn’t Tommy’s death message (it would’ve been really funny, let’s be honest), you do a double take to read it.

<Potatoman> My luck omg

Your eyebrows raise. For a split second, you dare to hope that the viewer is a fan of yours. That they want to be on a team with you. Hope is a dangerous thing; it just makes things worse when it dies.

<Potatoman> Stuck with the worst member <Potatoman> Not even a member fr lmaooo

Ah. And there it is.

Seeing the messages doesn't hurt; it's the fact that you knew to expect it right from the start.

That's not to say you're even the worst member, because in PvP you're a God. Hell, you and Techno train it all the time for fun! Even Tommy cheers when he gets teamed with you in PvP games like this. Being teamed with you for Bedwars was a pretty good thing, in theory.

Always in theory.

Because somehow, someway, you're never liked enough. Never enough for the viewers in general, even. Too annoying, too loud, too imperfect, too showy, too quiet, too anything. And you know to expect that feedback rather than to expect any semblance of compliments.

"At least the so-called 'worst member' didn't walk off the edge, unlike someone on my team." You quip, targeting your words at the viewer.

"Heh?" Techno asks.

"Oh, uh, nothing-"

"Look in chat." Wilbur interrupts.

There's a pause, then:

"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Tommy screams into his mic. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"I'm agreeing with the kid here." Techno sighs.

"Actually, we really should talk about how the fans have been online. It's not even a recent thing." Phil says, his calm a stark contrast to Tommy.

"I've seen it a lot too. Let's be clear; everyone here is part of the Sleepy Bois. I made it, I make the rules." Wilbur declares.

"You did not make it!" Tommy protests, but Wilbur doesn't stop for him.

"To make it clear, we won't tolerate any hate of anyone in this group, especially not to the extent that we've been seeing recently."

Your eyes glance over at your chat, already stunned, only to have your jaw slacken when you see that your chat is spamming hearts and "YESYESYES."

"Guys, you don't have to... do this." You try.

"I'm pretty sure we do." Techno deadpans, and you can practically imagine the optifine zoom on his character's face he's probably doing/

"The fans treat you like shit, and we're all tired of it." Wilbur agrees. "It's stupid."

"They're all internet assholes." Tommy chimes in, this time at a reasonable volume.

"So from here on out, anyone who says mean shit to you gets banned. From all of our chats." Your eyes go wide at Phil's words, and you quickly pull up his and Tommy's streams to see what their chats are saying.

But... that can't be right. The outpouring of agreement can't be right. The fans all hate you, you know this. There's no way they're agreeing with Phil, Tommy, Techno, and Wil.

So you open Wilbur's chat, then pull up a YouTube tab for Techno's stream too.

Agreement floods every chat, and for just a moment you can't breathe. You were the supposed forgotten middle child, the one nobody cares to stand up for. But that was wrong, wasn't it?

You are part of the Sleepy Bois, and you're just as deserving as everyone else. Of the fans, of the support, of being able to open chat and not see overwhelming hate.

Of being loved.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #philza x reader #technoblade #philza #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois inc x reader

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squishycheekanon · 5 months

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Now hear me Out... The techno's reactions to us being like a single parent or something before Meeting them? And possibly Meeting the child?

Bad idea or Not?

Techno x singlemom!Reader

Drabble

Techno wouldn’t care. He’d love your kid just as much as he loved you, they are simply an extension of you. Techno would be there for anything you needed, babysitting, dentists appointments for the kid. You remember that one time where you were stuck at work and there’d been an incident at school, he was the first one you called, he rushed over and set things straight instantly defending your child.

You came home to him playing with, let’s say your son, Apollo. Techno making aeroplane noises as his large hand moved the toy plane around in the air while your six year old son giggled loudly and excitedly.

Your heart was warmed and you felt your eyes stinging with tears at the sight. When you first met Techno you had tried hard to avoid him, not wanting to date anyone since the let down of Apollo’s father. When he left due to you getting pregnant it was a giant kick to your self esteem. You hadn’t felt worth it anymore and honestly not the most attractive either.

So when Techno persued you, you almost couldn’t believe it. Even when you had rejected him out of fear, he continued to court you coming into the diner where you worked and watching you with a smile while you served others. All he thought about was persuading you to quit so you’d never have to serve other people again. He had more than enough money to support you if you’d simply let him.

Finally, after a few months of him flashing his gorgeous pearly whites at you and making you feel all giddy with the sweet nicknames and phrases he spouted with that monotonous voice of his, you relented and let him take you on a date. You were shy and a bit withdrawn still, fussing over yourself and worrying about how you looked.

He eased them, ‘you look ravishing darlin’, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and your fussing ceased. He took you to a nice restaurant, wining and dining you like he had been promising he would. The whole night was actually going well and he’d managed to get you to relax enough to enjoy yourself until the babysitter called saying she had an emergency and she had to leave as soon as possible.

You obviously started rushing away, apologising profusely as you did. Techno chucked some money on the table and ran after you. He caught up to you and offered you to drive you home, after not being able to hail a cab you relented, he was your ride after all. The drive home was tense, you were so scared to tell him about your son not that you were embarrassed by him, not at all. You knew you’d done a good job raising him, but you knew the stigma around single moms and from past experiences when guys had asked you out only to back out when they’d found out you had a kid.

You didn’t want it to happen again, not after the lovely evening you had had and particularly not after the feelings that were growing for the man driving you home tonight.

You’d arrived, thanking him sufficiently with a kiss on the cheek for good measure before exiting the car rather quickly. You were so busy running away that you completely missed Techno’s worried expression, his softened eyes, and him getting out of the car to follow you.

As you unlocked the door, Sophia was pulling on her coat with a sad look on her face. “Do you have to go? We haven’t done story time yet!” Apollo whined.

“How about doing it with me buddy?” You smiled as your son’s eyes lit up at the sight of you home early, a rare occasion when you were working indeed.

“Mommy!” He squealed happily running into your arms. He hugged you tightly as you kissed his cheek. “Who’s that?” Apollo’s question had you turning around to see Techno staring down at you from where you were crouched.

“Sorry I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He apologised, smiling softly at the little boy who gave him a small wave.

That was around four month ago, since then your relationship with Techno had evolved and his bond with Apollo had grown so much. You never thought you’d have this, this safety net, this love. And yet as you watched Techno play aeroplanes with Apollo all you felt was love.

#singlemom!reader #squishycheekanonanswer #asks are appreciated #beefy!techno #dad!techno #squishysneekpeaks

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bad268 · 6 months

Text

Chosen (C! Technoblade/SBI X Child! Reader)

Fandom: DSMP

Requested: Day 24 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!

Warnings: Techno’s death and reader is Techno’s child in-game (Undisclosed age), my final goodbye to Techno, my hero. RIP Legend

Pronouns: They/them

W.C. 358

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Writing Inktober 2023 Masterlist

~~(^@/Philza's memorial to techno)

It wasn’t anything too abnormal. Wilbur had returned to Ohio, Tommy, and Tubbo seemingly fell off the face of the world, and Technoblade was off doing something in the Nether, leaving Y/n with Phil.

Techno was going to be gone a couple of days, he said. Well, it was pushing a week at this point and Y/n was aware of his disappearance. Techno sometimes lost track of time, it’s just who he is.

Phil didn’t question it; not until Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo showed up at his house. Apparently, Techno was supposed to meet up with them two days ago, and there is no way he would miss it.

“He’s just mining in the Nether,” Phil tried to tell them. “Probably ran into a problem or found something else to do.”

“But he would come home first,” Tommy pressed. “He loves Y/n. He wouldn’t just leave them without an explanation.”

“You say that like he’s abandoned them,” Phil scolded. The group looked at each other for a few seconds until they were interrupted by screams. Y/n’s screams.

The four bolted up the stairs and are immediately met with Y/n, their brother’s child, screaming, crying, and thrashing around. Y/n’s hands clawed at their ears trying to block out any noise. They cried out for someone, Phil specifically knowing that he might have a potion for whatever this was, “Phil, make it stop!”

“I need to know what’s going on to help, Y/n/n,” Phil comforted, sitting beside their bed as he tried to pry their hands off their head.

“No, Phil!” They screamed, “They’re too loud! It hurts, Phil!”

“They’re too loud?” Tommy questioned to himself before turning his attention to the child, “Who’s too loud, Little (first initial)?” Tommy asked, uncharacteristically quiet as he sat next to them on their bed.

“The voices,” they cried, finally opening their eyes to look at Tommy. Their normal (eye color) eyes were replaced with blood red. “They want blood, Uncle Tommy.”

It was then, they knew what happened.

When one Blood God dies, another must rise.

And unfortunately, Y/n was the chosen one.

~~~~~

#c!technoblade x reader #writing inktober 2023 #bad268 #c! technoblade #dream smp #platonic #ship268 #thing268

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honoviadakai · 2 months

Text

What you favorite Hazbin hotel song says about you 😈🎶😇

(This list includes songs from the pilot as well as a few others that are not official but are near and dear to the fandom's collective heart)

I’m always chasing rainbows 🌈:

…so how’s your relationship with your parents?

You have a good heart but you’re way too hard on yourself

You don’t always have to be busting your ass off, taking breaks is not a crime

Also failing is not the end of the world

I believe in you, please be kinder to yourself

Inside of every demon is a rainbow 🌈 😈:

Golden retriever energy

You are so sweet but so naive

I honestly feel like if this is your fav song, I could spit in your meal and you'd just smile and get a new plate

It's ok to go apeshit

If you did ever get mad I genuinely feel like you'd be absolutely terrifying

But you're such a sweet person, i can't imagine someone pushing you to that point

Inside of every demon is a lost cause/Alastor's reprise 🎶👿:

You're a cynical bastard and you wear that shit like a badge of honor

You're on the same page as Alastor in terms of redemption being impossible/pointless

If this song is your favorite, you laugh at children when they fall over

very loudly

You're the one in your friend group that everyone has to warn about before introducing you to knew people

You receive the bombastic side eye so often you smile every time it happens

ADDICT🕸️🚬:

You need a hug

All of the hugs

You're doing your best and I just want you to know I'm proud of you

Vox's Interlude📺🎶:

You like Dubstep

You like Dubstep to a concerning degree

You're also disappointed Vox doesn't have the same voice effect in cannon that he has in the song

You're a Vox simp, but you're really chill about it

Royal Flush🥃♥️♠️♦️♣️:

Hello my fellow Pansexuals and Husk Fans~

If this if your favorite song, you're a Mick Lauer fan and you were sad to hear he wasn't coming back to the official series and it made you even more jaded than you already were(I feel you)

You're also a fan of Johnathan Young and Rock music

You lowkey giggle every time you hear the "every hole is a goal" line

You probably have a sever resting bitch face that scares ppl sometimes, but deep down you're a softy

A jaded softy, but a softy

Radio Play📻🎶:

Hello Alastor fans that lament the recasting of Edward Bosco

Hello Black Gyrph0n fans that think he's not receiving enough recognition

How deep in the financial debt hole are you because of your love of Alastor and new found desire to have a retro 30's aesthetic once this song dropped?

You have good taste in music but I feel like you'd say out of pocket shit on accident

You probably know how to do the Charleston pretty well and that's pretty cool

Redemption arc🙏🎶:

Hello my depressed gifted child burnouts and Elise Lovelock fans

You're a girlboss, you really are, but I need you to take more breaks and drink more water

You strike me as someone who takes the phrase "act your wage" as a suggestion at best

If over thinking was an Olympic sport, you'd win gold, silver ans bronze

stop trying to carrying other people's baggage on top of your own, that's not building character, its building more work for your therapist

Assuming you've even allowed yourself to see one!

Insane🦌🔪:

You're unhinged

like Niffty levels unhinged

but you have good taste in music

You're also a very vocal Alastor fan

You need to be watched 24/7 because you strike me as someone who'd commit war crimes for fun

Eyes on me📺🥲:

You like Techno a normal amount

you're probably a Bo Burnham fan

You also give the vibe that you like anime like Evangalion

as well as the vibe of hiding behind a chill facade even though you're kinda depressed

you also give the impression that you're into enemies to lovers and once sided pining in romance

You ship Vox x Alastor in a wholesome way and you're foaming at the mouth for their backstory

You hate Val(as you should)

Change the order 👑🪽:

You lament that Lucifer doesn't have a British accent

You HEAVILY lament Lucifer not being a heartless asshole

You oh so desperately wanna see Lucifer and Lilith in their prime/as a united power couple

You have slight daddy issues

You're also probably someone who grew up with some religious trauma

You're in your villain arc but it's mostly yo protect yourself

i highly suggest getting a dog, a rubber duck collection and a therapist

Get hooked🚬🦋:

Your search history is not suitable for human eyes

You definitely have daddy issues

You desperately wanna see Val on the poles

You're fun at partied but you cannot be left unsupervised under any circumstances

You radiate bad bitch energy but I feel like you'd apologize to a kindly janitor if you had to walk on a floor they just finished mopping

You can run in heels and I respect that immensely

Smile like you mean it😁🦌:

I get it! You love Alastor! Please lower your voice a tad friend!

It's concerning how quick you'd sell your soul to this man

You like jazz unironically(nice)

You wanna experience one of Al's radio shows

...I'm not entirely sure if you wanna hear it or be the victim...and that deeply concerns me

Use me up🕷️🥲:

You wanna see Angle Dust fuck shit up(same)

You don't make friends easily but you're the loyalest son of a bitch anyone could ever have and more people need to recognize that

You probably had a really rough childhood

You give ppl middle fingers and sass the way Oprah gave out cars back in the day

You just want a hug, someone to say they're proud of you(I'm proud of you friend) and a month long nap

We're sure to drown🐈‍⬛🥃🥺:

Hello again my fellow Pansexuals and Husk fans

Specifically the ones with severe depression, trust issues and think mixing Tequila and monster energy drinks will help with the abandonment issues

yeah, i see you, put the bottle down mf

get therapy, this a threat

You're so cynical that even shadow the hedgehog would ask if you're ok

asking for help doesn't make you weak fam, i get where your coming from but you need a good plucking you prickly cactus

oddly enough, you give the best advice to the few friends you keep in your circle but take none of your own advice

You listen to country rock with lyrics so sad that everyone in the car with you immediately get concerned

definitely a cat person

POP!👁️💥:

You either wanna be stepped on or do the stepping on

You probably watched Black Lagoon and loved Revy

If you don't know what I'm talking about, look her up, that's your type

Low key probably a pyromaniac

You're that one friend that's ALWAYS ready to punch your friend's ex's in the face

Honestly, I feel like you're scrappy enough to fist fight god with the confidence of someone who thinks they have a shot at winning

My machine 🐍 ⚙️:

You were really excited to see Pentious be one of the show's antagonists

You're still a little bitter about not getting your mad scientist, steam punk, snake man

You did love his War General outfit though

You probably really like shows like Arcane

You really wanted 'Enemies to lovers' CherriSnake or platonic/rivals CherriSnake

You probably have reptile as a pet

most likely a snake

Happy day in hell🎶🎤:

You're a basic Broadway bitch but your optimism is a tad infectious so I'll let it slide

You're a tad too optimistic though

Like, to a concerning degree

Someone could punch you and you'd ask them if they were ok despite having a split lip

you're definitely a workaholic

take that PTO sweetie, work will be there when you come back

Hell is forever😇😈:

you either really like Alex Brightman or you LOVE villains

you also love rock

You kicked your feet like a love sick when Adam did the guitar solo bit

Probably a fan of bands like Skillet

You have religious trauma but your coping mechanism is to crack jokes about it

some of them are probably inappropriate

Stayed gone📺🦌:

You ship Vox x Alastor a "normal" amount

You'd sell your soul for Vox and Al to have more duets together

You're probably a Vox simp

If you're not, its cuz you're an Al simp

You giggled at "That's the tea"

You also drooled at Al's demon form towards the end of the song

It starts with sorry🐍🥹:

friend, you are way too forgiving

someone could steal your life's savings and I feel like you'd just let them have it because "they probably need it more"

You were very proud of Pentious

Respectless💅📱:

You radiate chihuahua energy

You are 5'2 or smaller and 90 lbs soaking wet

someone need to make sure you don't run these streets lawless

don't get me wrong

You are absolutely a bad bitch that serves cunt like a 5 star restaurant serves gourmet steak

but you're gonna say the wrong thing to the wrong person one day

you cannot afford to fuck around and find out when they're over 5'9 my friend, sit down please

Whatever it takes🦋🩰:

you're the eldest child of your family aren't you

You don't need to prioritize everyone before yourself!

Love yourself first damn it!

You probably like Milfs or goths

You also probably wish Zestial had more songs

I have a feeling your favorite Disney movie is Encanto...

Poison🚬🕷️🥺:

Holy fuck you need a hug

You're either a survivor of some kind or life has just been kicking you in the balls for no god damn reason

Come here, I'm adopting you and making sure you're actually happy

You're low key an amazing dancer

literally one of the best people to be friends with

Loser Baby🐈‍⬛🕷️:

hello my fellow queers, Keith David fans, Blake Roman fans and Huskerdust shippers

You are a connoisseur of slow burn romance

You're probably a depressed hopeless romantic

friend, if you want the Husker to your dust...the loser to your baby...you gotta talk to people...

go touch grass

you're that one friend who bullies your bestie but that's cuz that your guy's love language

If anyone messed with your bestie, you'd fight that person to the death the way Husk and Angel did to those loan sharks

Hell's greatest dad🪽🦌:

You either beef with ppl for fun or you're a very flamboyant theater kid

Its probably both tbh

You probably fell in love with the blonde short king after this song

You ship Radioapple

you want a sitcom ft Radioapple and you'd sell your soul to get it

Your fav Disney movie is probably Aladdin

You totally play "HaHA! Fuck you..." on repeat

More than anything🪽😭:

So how's your relationship with your dad...

You cried so hard to this song that it scared you

grab the tissues, get your coziest blanket and go get your favorite treat

and some therapy

Welcome to Heaven😇🎶:

Emily is your favorite character

Your gaydar was going off when St. Peter started existing

Your a chill person

A little too chill though…

You might still be an active member of your community

Ya might wanna consider reducing your hours, there is such a thing as too much loyalty

Treat yourself to a vacation

You didn't know😧🪽:

Hello fellow black sheep of the family with severe religious trauma

You freaked the fuck out when the “If Hell is forever then Heaven must be a lie” line dropped

You felt so vindicated after this song and honestly, same

You LOVED Emily by the end of this song

Out for love 💗 🩰:

You like MILFs

You want Carmilla to kick/step on you

You’re either a magical girl fan, a fan of Latin music or both

You cheered so hard for Vaggie at the end you definitely got a noise complaint 🤣

Ready for this🎤⚔️:

You have anxiety

Your favorite character is probably Charlie

Your favorite movie is probably Marry Poppins or something in the same time period/genre

You’ve dealt with Karen’s before and watching Susan become tolerable was so satisfying for you

You want Alastor and Rosie to adopt you

More than anything(reprise):

You're the poster child of sappy hopeless romantics

You cried a little from joy here

You’re definitely not straight

You want this moment, go get yourself a Vaggie cuz you’re definitely gonna be the Charlie of the relationship

Finale🎶🎆:

You're the ultimate theater kid

This song hit all the sweet spots in your depressed brain for you

Let’s be honest, your favorite part of the song was either the Vees or Alastor

It’d your favorite part was with the Vees, your a huge chaos gremlin

You cannot be trusted with information but you’re very fun at parties

If your favorite part was Alastor’s part, get therapy

If you related to that part on a spiritual level, you mask so hard I’d believe you if you said you were born wearing a mask

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin music #musicals #Hazbin meme

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candy-sticks-zaza-blogs · 1 year

Note

Tfa optimus, ratchet, bulkhead, prowl, sari, bumblebee with a techno organic reader that reminds them that they are apart of their family no matter what and that they will always be there for them, Basically found family dynamic please. All platonic.

I will use headcanon instead of writing words

Tfa Team Prime X GN!Techno-organic Reader

TW:SFW,none,abit of angst,fluff,platonic ,Family Dynamic

Optimus

-WHAT?! No he would never hate you! Your just perfect and very special to him

-He would be supportive and a great sire (father) figure

-He will be proud of your skills and being yourself whenever you will always open up for him.

-He lost Elita when she became a techno organic aka. Arachnia which he hugged you when your upset

-However he made Sentinel to shut up when he complained about humans

Ratchet

-He’s maybe a grumpy ex-war medic grandpa in the group but you can’t every say bad things in front of him!

-He will sigh and explain that your not a weapon but a grand creation to him.

-Yeah he been depressed and needs a therapy by you are his therapist and he is yours as well….

-He also tells you to heal or fixed the others instead of fighting so you became his assistant or nurse to help him fix the damaged team

Bulkhead

-Hearing you saying bad things about yourself makes him cry

-he would hug you tightly saying that you are like a sibling to him

-He said he likes your company and you didn’t ruined his mood when he painted his arts with you

-He painted you when he painted or draw your optics colours

Bumblebee

-He would beef up with if someone has insulted you but you explain to him as he feel bad about you being a half machine makes him sad

-He would comfort you telling that you are not a war machine or an emotionless bot or a Decepticon

-He would cheer you up when he plays video game with you which he let’s you win

-He likes your cool battle mask which makes him screaming in excitement when you transform which he shows off his battle mask or gun mask

Prowl

-Oh no….he would be concerned about you hating yourself as he tries to comfort you

-He may have some past he experienced when he was a young troublemaker who is absolutely struggling himself

-He would cheered you up by comfort,nature and meditation

-He likes your optics or eye colour which he stares at it for hours trying to figure what a meaning to your optics colour

-He would tell a comfort quotes he reads and saying it to you makes you feel happy with him

Sari

-She would be worried about you being upset. She didn’t want you to be upset! She wanted you to be happy!

-Since she is a child she would support the way you were born with flesh and machine.

-She somehow make a robot sounds which you join in as you two laugh in joy

-She is like a little sister to you she would be there for you and following you like a little duckling!

-She is amazed about you having cool abilities and weapons you have on your hands

-When she became a teenage techno organic and th the truth you don’t feel lonely anymore as she and you became best techno organic siblings. (Which she have blue or red eyes I headcanon that she have red eyes like her original self. Which you decide which favourite colour option you perfer for your eyes)

“You are the part of the family,family have to stick together!We will support you no matter what!”

#Transformers #tfa #headcanon #transformers animated #transformers x reader #tfa x reader #platonic #gender neutral s/o #gender neutral reader

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simplepotatofarmer · 1 year

Text

hi, i'm loyal (they/them)!

i'm an adult, an anarchist and hardcore union supporter, and i have two kids and a bunch of chickens. i post pictures of my chickens and talk about my kids' sometimes. i have no dni; i find them pointless, just be kind and curate your experience. <3

this is primarily a lore blog! i rarely, if ever, post about the cc's and if i do, it's generally cc!techno.

i'm a writer, mostly rivals duo centric fanfic! i love c!techno, c!dream, and i think doomsday was right and based and that the syndicate has never done anything wrong, ever, and in fact were always correct. also, c!emerald duo deserves the entire world.

on this blog you'll find:

🐝 technoblade content as well as rivals duo posts! 🐝 posts about my chickens! and general chicken posting 🐝 lots of art! if you're an artist, especially for techno or dream, literally feel free to send me your art to reblog! i try very hard to reblog as much as i can! 🐝 my meta/writing posts! mostly about techno but i also touch on overall themes and c!dream as well. 🐝 occasional posts about anarchism or anti-capitalism

as far as characters other than techno, i'm really fond of dream, phil, niki, ponk, badboyhalo, antfrost, awesamdude, captain puffy, sylvee, hannah, gia, skeppy, and bigb! i also really like mr. goodtimeswithscar!

🌻 i don't like drama! please don't involve me or tag me in it, thank you <3 🌻 like/reblog spamming is perfectly okay! i actually love seeing it. 🌻 if you need anything tagged, please let me know! 🌻 my ask is always open for questions, whether about characters, aus, or anything else! 🌻 i have no interest in engaging with discourse or cc negative, at all. neither am i going to list out which cc's i don't like or support. that sort of thing makes me feel weird. 🌻 if i have you blocked, it's not personal.

check out my au primer posts! [x] [x] [x] [x]

-> loyal's scrapbook <-

a list of my favorite posts beneath the cut! + more info

💛 technoblade & dehumanization 💛 kindness vs. niceness in the dsmp 💛 technoblade & kindness vs. niceness 💛 violence is the only universal language 💛 yes, the syndicate are friends you just don't watch them 💛 why justice on the dream smp fails 💛 dsmp & the ones who walk away from omelas 💛 dream's healing from the pov of a child abuse victim 💛 doomsday trio headcanons 💛 technoblade & minimization 💛cc!techno positivity 💛 c!dream and the laydown sacrifice 💛 phil, techno & friendship 💛 yes techno has questioned himself here's the clips 💛 a breakdown of the doomsday speeches 💛 on prison and minecraft 💛 why dream being redeemed makes sense 💛 favorite techno headcanons

tagging system:

#loyal talks about stuff and things: general original text posts, often including posts about the dsmp and charancters

#the loyal homestead flock: chicken pictures and updates!

#loyal answers things: answered asks

*banners (except for header) made by @/call-me-apple

#long post #a new pinned. over a year later. :|#loyal talks about stuff and things

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toxicruins101 · 1 year

Text

YOUR WORDS KILLED ME

Sbi! Family x Male! Killer! Reader.

Tw!: Gore, torture, mentions of torture, blood, killing, depression. Etc.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

you couldn't even keep count of how many days it had been since you were stuck down here.

1, 2, 3..678910..

Who knows? Yet as the faint sound of your blood dropping onto the floor making a slight consecutive sound you became aware of the passage of time around you.

The faint sound of chains rubbing with each other, making an awful sound.

Pain was the only thing you felt at the moment and you knew you weren't going to last very longer in this hell hole.

You committed a crime, a deadly one quite literally, and in exchange you got sentenced to this.

Torture and torture for days on end.

You heard the heavy metal door move and tried to look up but even that hurt.

You could try to look up with your eyes but you failed the energy to even do that.

"Hey mate.." Philza, oh your sweet father Philza, all this time he had been so hopeful and so relived when they told him you'll be able to get out instead of serving a life long sentence

Yet it pained you so much, knowing his poor heart was going to be crushed.

"Are you feeling ok? I'm guessing your asleep right now though.."

'I'm not sleeping, I'm dying' you thought as a warm feeling invaded your pain struck heart.

Your father always did care for you, he always has, as his first child you meant everything to him.

You wish you could scream out to him and tell him your fate, but were unable as your tongue had been cut out in the early days of this sentence.

You wanted to cry and sob, tell him everything that was wrong, so maybe he could save you, he could rescue you.

That maybe you'll get to see your little brothers again.

Maybe train with techno one last time, teach Wilbur guitar again, and help tommy pull pranks on the others just for one more time.

But your death seemed closer than that possibility coming true.

"Don't worry mate, just 2 more weeks and your out of here, two more weeks and you'll get to go home." Spoke your father tears welling in his eyes at the sight of your broken hanged up form.

You'd be long gone by then, your poor heart ached at the thought of your caring family having to receive the news of your death.

You all meant a lot to the other, so just thinking about it made you weep.

"I'll be taking my leave now mate, stay strong ok? We are all waiting for you back home.." his voice spoke, you tried to move towards him, yell at him to stop and speak a little more.

To null the pain and bring back the good memories, you wanted to die with a familiar voice calling out to you.

Not the treacherous screams of the other inmates in here whose fates have already been decided.

Soon after though another person came in.

"Y/n? You there?"

Techno

Techno!

You were so glad, you wanted to run up and hug him so tightly both of you were out of air.

Sadly you couldn't so you slightly moved your arms making the chains jingle hoping that would give him the message you were listening to him.

"Ah good, thought you were passed out there for a sec and I got really scared.." he chuckled lightly at the end of his sentence

Don't say stuff like that...it'll only make it harder for me to die you thought

"listen, we all, really miss you ok? I know what you did was bad, but, nobody deserves this.

Come back home, ok? We all.

Really need you" spoke his grave voice as he slowly made his way outside, looking over at you again before leaving.

There were so many things you wanted to say to him.

So many

So so many.

You had missed him so much over the years it was crazy.

You didn't know if this was the gods way of having mercy on you and letting you hear your family one last time or their punishment.

Making you hear and bear that weight of sadness knowing all their hopes of you getting out of here were going to get tarnished by your inevitable death.

No-one?

Guess that was it.

Maybe Wilbur and tommy didn't think you were worth their time-

"Y/n?..." Spoke a gentle voice from the other side of the space.

Wilbur.

You slightly smiled, you wanted to cry more than ever.

You had missed him so much.

Hearing about his death in l'manburg broke you in a million pieces

Yet there he stood now, revived and well.

He only started at you and walked over.

He inspected your weak form and wanted to cry at the state of it.

In an act of anger, at seeing his brother, his blood, one of the men who raised him be hung up and treated like a punching bag he broke the chains holding up your arms, with a sword that always hanged loosely on his belt.

Guards came rushing in as you finally felt your hands in God knows how long.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

Guards came in and started pushing him out

He screamed and thrashed in their hold.

"LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKS, IM TALKING WITH MY BROTHER, WAIT-

NO NO WAIT-

Y-!"

his voice got cut off as he was forced out and the metal door slammed shut.

The guards looked at your weak form on the ground and scoffed as they pulled you up and tied you by your wrists.

So much for feeling your hands again

This time you didn't hear a voice, not even a peep.

Just quiet footsteps as they came closer and closer to you.

You felt gentle arms around your torso, careful as to not hurt you as sobs emitted from said person.

Tommy, the youngest out of all of you.

You looked at his dirty blonde hair and wanted to reach out and hug him so bad as he hugged and cried onto your broken skin.

His sobs filled out the room as tears fell from your eyes at the sight of your little brother in pain.

All because of you

Your family was suffering

Your friends were suffering

Everyone was suffering

Because of you

"All right, visiting times over kid, scram" spoke your torturer and you wanted to punch him faceless because of how he talked to your brother.

He only glared at the man but then took notice of the various array of weapons desplayed on his cart.

Full of blood, your blood, to be precise.

"hey, wait, no." He said as he stared.

Two more guards came out and went towards him when they realized he had no plans of leaving.

"HEY! NO! WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING ON DOING TO HIM! NO! DONT YOU DARE-" Spoke the blonde haired kid as they dragged him out, tears falling from his blue eyes.

"Something permanent" spoke your abuser as he smirked at your disheveled younger brother being forced out of the room.

You could hear your name being called and sobs from the other side.

NONO

NONONONO

NO GOD PLEASE

Don't leave me please

Philza...

Techno...

Wilbur....

Tommy...

Don't leave me to die alone please...

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awooga-llama · 2 years

Text

The Cold

Technoblade x NB! Child reader

A/N: Just felt like doing something cute, I hope you enjoy and don't be afraid to give me feedback I don't bite unless you want me too :)

(Y/N) had caught a cold after their little journey through the meadows, near the ocean's edge. They should’ve been more careful because of their allergies but as a rambunctious three year old they didn’t have the time for anything that was not fun. The child had not seen their uncles in two days, Philza roamed around the house looking for things to clean, and Techno had yet to come out of his room. (Y/N) was stuck alone with a runny nose, dry scratchy eyes, and a slight cough. They grabbed their favourite blanket off the couch and wrapped themself in it, looked around to make sure Grandpa Philza was nowhere to be found and waddled quickly towards Techno and their shared bedroom. (Y/N) had to jump to reach the handle, it took them three tries before the door went flying open. Inside the room, Techno sat at his desk surrounded by books and papers, a grey skull sitting in some liquid inside a mason jar sat nearby as well. The piglin looked over his shoulder at the little one. At first, he thought it was Philza coming to disrupt him and was prepared to yell but when he saw it was his little one standing there instead he felt his heart soften. He had yet to notice the sniffling and red scleras.

“What is it Orphan?” He asked. (Y/N) walked towards him and attempted to climb in their father’s lap but was struggling due to the blanket. Techno wrapped the child and picked them up, holding them close. (Y/N) sneezed and then the piglin knew what was wrong.

They’ve caught a cold

Get rid of it

Infected

Banish the child

Fix them

The voices were contradicting each other. Techno didn’t want to bring harm to his little one and did his best to ignore the raging voices. (Y/N) touched their father’s cheek seeing he was conflicted within. The noise in his mind disappeared when the cold palm touched his flaming skin. The big scary mercenary never had to take care of a sick child before, these types of situations weren’t exactly in his job description. He knew he couldn’t ask Phil because then (Y/N) would get in trouble for disturbing Techno while he was studying the summoning of withers. The piglin tried to think back to when Tommy would get sick. What did Wilbur and Philza do? He remembered warm washcloths or showers, thermometers, soft singing (sometimes the quiet strumming of an out-of-tune guitar), blankets, and cuddling even if there was a chance of catching the same cold. It couldn’t hurt to try those then. He thought.

(Y/N) went into a coughing fit. They covered their face with the blanket wrapped around their small frame. They leaned back even more into their Father’s body feeling the warmth radiate off of him. Techno shifted his grip on the child. He turned them to face his torso as he stood up and moved to a dresser on the far side of the bedroom. He held tightly onto (Y/N) as he kneeled to get out some light-weight sleep clothes for the child before making his way quietly to the door. Techno stuck his head out first looking and listening for any signs of his father roaming nearby before making a mad dash for the bathroom.

After closing and locking the door behind him Techno stripped down to his boxers and threw the clothes from his earlier mission into the laundry bin next to the sink. He turned the hot water on, mixed in cold with it and waited as the temperature turned warm, the Piglin grabbed the scented bubble bath goop and poured some of that in aswell. He turned around and stared at the wall as (Y/N) did their best to undress. They called to Techno for help getting their shirt off and then he lifted them gently into the lukewarm water. The three year old let out a shrill squeal, it was so loud that Techno was surprised Phil didn't come flying through the door.

"Shh orphan, you've got to be sneaky like a ninja." he whispered with a finger against his lips. (Y/N)'s eyes widened and they splashed around doing the arm waving thing others do when performing karate. Some bubbles flew up and landed in Techno's pink hair. The child thought they were going to get in trouble but the opposite happened. Their dad laughed quietly, anyone else would have mistaken it for a cough. Techno scooped up some water and splashed back at his child. (Y/N) let out a little shriek of happiness and things got out of hand. Both of them kept splashing each other and water got everywhere, Techno's white shirt now clutching onto his toned torso, his pink skin shining through. (Y/N) hair was sticking every which way and they had bubble a bit too close to their left eye. Techno reached up and rubbed away most of the water and bubbles on their face. The mercenary grabbed a small sponge and wiped the child down and rinsed them. He brushed their bangs aside and kissed their forehead just like how Philza used to do to Tommy when he was sick.

"There we go, now you're all clean." he cooed, his voice softer than ever before.

The child stared into his red eyes a smile tugging at their lips. He smiled too.

"Let's get you out and dried off ok?" He said helping them climb out of the tub. A couple seconds later he brought over the clean pajamas over his shoulder and handed it to his precious, the child dressed quickly, needing help with their shirt again. When Techno finished he pulled off his soaked shirt and hung it up on the shower rod the dry. He chuckled at the sight of his orphan trying to play with the sink and made his way over to them with a towel in hand.

"Here." He said putting the towel on top of (Y/N)'s head to dry their hair. They hummed happily and patted their hands against the wet towel.

Techno picked up (Y/N) and carried them back to their bedroom where he laid them down in bed.

"Do you want something to eat, sweetheart?" He asked, kneeling by the bedside as the child nodded. "Alright then, I'll be right back".

He left to find food for his child and a glass of juice. He could hear them shuffling about on the bed and figured their legs must be aching. Once he returned and placed the food down he put the glass on the nightstand and took his spot beside them.

"Thank you, papa." (Y/N) said, snuggling closer to their Dad. His chest was heating up again and he had to stop himself from smiling.

"Anytime, pumpkin." That was a new one. Techno could tell that (Y/N) liked it. The kid ate and drank what Techno brought. Once the three year old's belly was full they snuggled up under his arm and fell asleep. The piglin wanted to get up and continue working on his Wither research but was afraid of moving so instead he held his kin close and decided maybe he'd catch up on some sleep too.

Philza came into the room a few hours later concerned because he couldn't find (Y/N) again. When his blue eyes fell on the two sleeping figures in bed he immediately knew the rambunctious toddler was fine. He could hear both of them snoring and quietly left the room. He couldn't wait to tell all the others of what he had just witnessed.

#dsmp fanfic #oneshot #cute fluff #dsmp #technoblade x reader #technoblade #techno x child #techno x y/n #child reader #child (y/n)

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thequiver · 8 months

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Who is.....Paige Guthrie | Husk? - A Reading Guide

Paige Guthrie is an X-Men affiliated mutant from Marvel comics first introduced in 1984. Paige is the younger sister of Sam Guthrie (Cannonball of the New Mutants), and the oldest daughter of the Guthrie family. Paige is known for her passion and drive, as well as for her intellect. Husk has the mutant ability to shed her outer layer of skin and reveal a new state or shape underneath. Her power can cause random changes if she activates it without thinking, but by concentrating on specific chemical or elemental formulas, she can control the nature of her transformation. These shifts in state can leave her vulnerable to mood swings and blackouts, requiring her to be careful when she uses her powers. Despite her character being best known among fans for her relationships with Jono Starsmore (Chamber) and Warren Worthington III (Angel/Archangel) - Paige is a smart, strong, and kind character worthy of focus in her own right. (She's also amazing Appalachian representation in comics <3).

Below you can find a mostly complete record of Paige's appearances through February 2023 complete with totally legal links ;)! I've included context for crossover events and major storylines in the hopes of making this reading list as accessible to new readers as possible!

Beginnings

First Appearances: within these two issues, we get our first introduction to Paige, and the family dynamic she exists in. (While Paige is only present in passing in New Mutants #42, that issue offers an in depth look into the Guthrie family dynamics of the oldest siblings, even if Paige is noticeably absent from this conversation.)

Rom Annual (1979) #3 New Mutants (1983) #42

Child's Play (and its aftermath): In this crossover event, the Upstarts continue their series of games to prove their power and worth to one another. This time, they devise "the Younghunt", a mission to capture all of the surviving members of the New Mutants (some of whom are now members of X-Force) and the Hellions. Paige had secretly followed X-Force, and ends up saving the day with her intellect. The event ends with New Warriors #46, and Paige's appearances afterwards tackle the aftermath of the event, with Cable trying to talk to Paige about her future and her training.

X-Force (1991) #32-33 New Warriors (1990) #46 X-Force (1991) #34-36

Phalanx Covenant: Mutant hating humans that have gained access to Warlock's techno-organic Phalanx virus use it to turn themselves into techno-organic beings. With these powers, the Phalanx are able to change their shape and assimilate organic matter. As a hive-mind they are programmed to exterminate all mutant life. This event sets up Generation X (which is Paige heavy!). The first three issues listed below are the only ones technically part of the Phalanx Covenant event, but some more issues have been included to add a bit more context before the Generation X section :)

X-Men (1991) #36 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #317 X-Men (1991) #37 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #318 X-Force (1991) #42

Training with the X-Men

Generation X: A new team of mutants under the leadership of Sean Cassidy (Banshee) and Emma Frost (The White Queen) is formed at the Massachusetts campus of the Xavier Institute. The goal of this team is to earn an education and learn how to become the next generation of X-Men- their focus is not to fight villains. Paige is featured heavily in this book and is one of the main team members!

Generation X (1994) #1-9, Annual #1, 10-21, Annual #2, 22-23, Annual #3, 24-40, 1/2, 41 X-Men Unlimited (1993) #20 Generation X (1994) 42-49, Annual #4 Generation X Holiday Special Generation X (1994) #50 X-Man(1995) #50 Generation X (1994) #51 X-Force (1991) #87 Generation X (1994) #52-56 Wolverine (1988) #141 Generation X (1994) #57-58, Annual #5, 59-75

Post-Graduation

Uncanny X-Men: Generation X ends with #75 and from there Paige's next appearances are found within the pages of Uncanny X-Men. In this arc, we see Paige recruited by Sean Cassidy (Banshee) onto the paramilitary team, X-Corps (this plotline is certainly a choice made by Marvel comics). While X-Corps was not a long lived team, and the arc mostly happens in Uncanny X-Men #403-406, the rest of the Uncanny X-Men and related/chronological plotlines are listed here as well - this leads directly into M-Day.

Uncanny X-Men (1981) #403-426 Exiles (2001) #28-30 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #427-441 Weapon X (2002) #15, 18

House of M/M-Day: After altering reality so mutants were the dominant race, the Scarlet Witch then changed reality again, this time attempting to rid the world of the mutant gene, by casting another spell, "No More Mutants", de-powering the vast majority of mutants.

Excalibur (2004) #11-13 X-Men (1991) #165 Decimation: House of M - The Day After

Sentinels: The Sentinels were artificially intelligent robots designed to hunt mutantkind. Although a prototype was developed in San Francisco in 1906, the modern Sentinels were first created by Dr. Bolivar Trask. His intention was to use them to save humanity from what he saw as an impending threat to the species' existence due to the increasing numbers of emerging mutants. Sentinels have long been one of the largest threats to mutantkind in X-comics and at this point in comics are one of the greatest threats to them from the government. Especially when so many mutants have been depowered as the result of M-Day/Decimation. This section also touches on Divided We Stand, a synopsis is linked here for ease of understanding.

Uncanny X-Men (1981) #469-472 New X-Men (2004) #24-32 X-Men: Divided We Stand (2008) #1

Secret Invasion: TW: THIS EVENT IS TIED PRETTY HEAVILY INTO ANTISEMITIC TROPES PROCEED WITH CAUTION The premise of Secret Invasion is that the Skrull empire, in a bid to take control of earth, replaces several super-powered humans/humanoids on earth with Skrulls.

Secret Invasion X-Men (2008) #2-4

Utopia: Within the Utopia event (connected to the Utopia base that used to be Asteroid M), Scott Summers (Cyclops) instructs Logan Howlett (Wolverine) to create a new secret X-Force team to act as something like a black-ops squad. Meanwhile, Norman Osborne (of Spider-Man, Green Goblin fame) had promised Emma Frost (White Queen) that he would spare the mutant society in San Francisco if she kept them in line. This event is heralded by secret-keeping with a backdrop of anti-mutant legislation being passed in many US states due to Simon Trask's (Bolivar Trask's, creator of the Sentinels, brother) push for a lack of reproductive freedom for mutants.

Dark Avengers (2009) #8 Dark Avengers/Uncanny X-Men: Exodus (2009)

Necrosha and Second Coming: Necrosha is a crossover event that deals with mutants being resurrected for the dark purposes of Selene Gallio (an old enemy of the X-Men, first appearing in New Mutants (1983) #9) who intends to use these resurrected mutants in her quest to become a goddess. Second Coming is a storyline that builds on the Utopia and Necrosha storylines. The story centers on the return of Cable and Hope Summers, and on attempts to end the X-Men through the destruction of the Mutant Messiah, the aptly named Hope Summers.

X-Force (2008) #22 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #231-233 New Mutants (2009) #14 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #237

Curse of the Mutants: In what can only be described as the "oh shit we've run out of ideas" last resort of any creative company putting out too many crossover events in a short period of time..... the X-Office put out Curse of the Mutants. The arc centers on a human bomb exploding in San Francisco's Union Square, covering dozens in vampire-converting blood. It then becomes the mission of the X-Men to track down Dracula's son Xarus, now "Lord of the Vampires", even if that means enlisting vampire-hunter Blade. Yeah.... I don't know either.

X-Men: Curse of the Mutants - X-Men vs. Vampires X-Men (2010) #5

Age of X: The mutants are almost extinct, tortured by a strike force led by Colonel Graydon Creed. The first signs of the Age of X appeared in X-Men: Legacy #244; the events were removed from the Earth-616 mainstream continuity, with no memories of the alternate lives. If you've taken a look at my David Haller Reading List you'll see this event explained as "David’s desire to be loved forces him to grapple with reality," and as a story that "places David in a role where he has to choose between a false universe where he is considered a beloved hero and reality where he must choose to be a hero despite the fear others feel about him." And while that is the base cause of the event, Age of X also has some absolutely INCREDIBLE moments for Paige (and her relationship with her brother Sam) to shine!

X-Men: Legacy (2008) #246 New Mutants (2009) #23 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #247 New Mutants (2009) #24-27

Regenesis: In the aftermath of Schism, the X-Men re-organize and face new challenges. Imo you don't necessarily have to read Schism to understand Regenesis, but it might be helpful if you want to grasp all the nuance.

X-Men: Regenesis (2011) #1 Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #1-3 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #260.1 Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #4-7 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #261-265 Astonishing X-Men (2004) #51

Avengers vs. X-Men: When the Phoenix Force approaches Earth, Hope Summers is assumed its next host. The X-Men and the Avengers are divided on how to handle the situation. The X-Men believe that the Phoenix Force will herald the rebirth of the Mutant Species, while the Avengers believe that it will bring an end to all life on Earth. This leads to a war between Marvel's two powerful superhero factions.

Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #9 Avengers vs. X-Men (2012) #3 Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #10 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #266-267 Wolverine and the X-Men (2011) #13-19, 30-41

What comes next?

While many of Paige's appearances take place in or connected to crossover events, there is a blissful period in the 2010s where this is not the case and the stakes aren't quite as high. The events pick up again in 2019 with Age of X-Man, but the following issues take place between Wolverine and the X-Men and the Age of X-Man event.

Nightcrawler (2014) #3-4 Uncanny X-Men (2013) #600 Generation X (2017) #8-9 Spider-Man/Deadpool (2016) #24-25 Generation X (2017) #85-87 Spider-Man/Deadpool (2016) #27-40

Age of X-Man: The name and premise derive from the 1995 storyline Age of Apocalypse, but instead focus on a utopian alternate universe led by the X-Man, Nate Grey. This is.... not the comic to read for Nate, but Paige is here!

Uncanny X-Men (2019) #1-10 (Paige is technically only in #9-10, but all ten issues are highly recommended as they're the lead-up to Age of X-Man!) Age of X-Man: Next Gen (2019) #1-2

House of X and Krakoa: House of X is the event that sets up the founding of the island nation of Krakoa as a safe haven for mutants. These comics also detail the Crucible, a way for de-powered mutants to die in combat and be resurrected with their powers once more.

House of X (2019) #3-5 X-Men (2019) #7 Fallen Angels (2019) #5-6 X-Men Unlimited Infinity Comic (2021) #1, 3-4, 22, 24-25, 41 Legion of X (2022) #8

If you have any questions about Paige, or have a specific request on which of her siblings (Sam, Jay, Mel) I should do a reading list for next just let me know! My asks and DMs are open!

#paige guthrie #husk #x-men #xmen #x men #generation x #reading list #reading guide #comic recs #reading order

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armpirate · 1 year

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The Only One || JJK || Ch. 1

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Seoul, South Korea. 02:23 am

Over the techno music, drowned by the thick walls separating the nightclub from the basement, the dry and hollow sound of the wooden bat against the stomach and chest of the man collapsing on the floor echoed between the four walls.

—Take it like a good girl —gasped a masculine, yet sweet voice—. Now tell me where's my money.

—I don't know —the old man lying on the floor cried, while raising his hands—. I promise I don't know.

—So you can't give Jeon's money back, yet you're paying 800,000 wons to get your cock sucked? —the military boots fly to the man's chubby chest.

—Gil —the pain he was going through was almost palpable through his cracked voice—. Nam Gil. He was the one in charge of the distribution.

—I don't give a fuck who was in charge of the distribution —the brunette yelled, grabbing the almost unconscious man by the collar—. You're the one who's in control of what your boys do, and that includes Nam Gil. If one of your boys loses our money, you're the one making up for it.

—Don't tell Jeon —the middle aged man sounded desperate—, please. I'll get the money. I will —his pupils were shaking while trying to convince the man in front of him—. Please —he sobbed—. I will do whatever you want.

—Oh, whatever he wants?

Nobody needed to actually see him, the tone and sound of his voice made everyone go quiet. The tension was palpable as soon as everyone recognized his deep melodic voice, sharper than the different knives aligned on the table.

He appeared through the darkness, imposing his heavy presence over everyone in the room, as if everything that was going on just a few seconds ago was a child's play. Things were serious now that he was there.

—What were you willing to do, Min Joon? —he questions, raising one of his eyebrows— Were you trying to make my men betray me?

—No, oh my god, no —he shook his head, replying with a trembling voice—. I just need time, Jeon. Please.

—But you got time, didn't you? —Jungkook grabbed his jaw, forcing the man to look at him— You got time, and from what I see you also got some of the money. Used it for something better, I see.

—I'm sorry. I'm sorry —he kept repeating.

—I know you are —his expression softened for one second—. I'm sure you regret it, and you are more than ready to work again to make this all up.

—Yes, sir —the old man was close to breaking in whimpers and sobs.

—Give me the towel —Jungkook ordered one of his men.

—Wha...

—Give me the fucking towel —he raised his voice.

The change in his voice, from soft to rough, made everyone jump and remember who they were dealing with. The younger of them rushed to grab the white towel and hand it to their boss, whose expression was again neutral.

Giving the tied man a small smile, he started cleaning the blood that was coming out of his rounded big nose. He was gentle, calm, cleaning everything and making Min Joon relax. It's like he was sure Jungkook wouldn't lay a hand on him after his promises.

—So, Nam Gil? —Jungkook asked, stepping back again and throwing the towel somewhere in the room— He's the man I should be looking for.

Min Joon nodded fast, stuttering on his words while trying to answer vocally.

—He works for you, right? —Jungkook waited for the old man to nod so he could continue— He lives with his family in Guryong, doesn't he? —Min Joon nodded again— Hmm. Horrible ass tattoo on his leg?

The tied man then understood what was going on, there was no hope for him because they already caught the person he was willing to snitch on to be free. He saw Jungkook taking a plastic bag out of his pocket, before he threw something to his naked leg. When he lowered his eyes, he saw the tattooed skin layer of Nam Gil, shining under the lights because of the blood and the fresh cuts.

His breathing stopped when he realized what happened. Lungs totally closed, with his heart racing faster than it ever did while Jungkook's eyes were radiating with the most sadistic ideas.

—It's so funny —he commented—. Before shitting on himself while being flayed alive, he mentioned you were trying to hide the merch to make more money out of it —Jungkook scoffed.

Grabbing the man by the sideburns, he forced him to look at his eyes. Jungkook slicked his tongue through his front teeth, smiling before he pulled away.

—I didn't want to scare you, Joon —he apologized, moving his hands to his shoulders—. But you do understand that these guys right here respecting me depends on you respecting me. And if you don't respect me, you need to face the consequences —his pierced eyebrow raised again—. I promise I don't want to do this, but I have to.

Jungkook finally stood up, looking at the man lying clumsily on the chair, desperate to keep the balance. Lifting two of his fingers, he signaled one of his men to walk towards him.

—Let's give our guest a lesson for free —his dark eyes went down to Min Joon again—. See? Not only I'm letting you live, but I'm also reminding you things you should already know, without having to pay a thing —he tilted his head—. What should you say?

—Th... Th... —the man shook his head, trying to clear himself and manage to let the words leave his thin lips properly—. Thank you, Jeon —he gulped the thick knot on his throat.

—You're welcome —getting ready to leave the place, he turned to Min Joon again—. I want the merch and the penalty in less than twenty-four hours —turning to the man with long hair, he smiled—. Do you have his food?

The long haired man drew a sided and twisted smile slowly, just to nod and assure his boss that everything was under control.

Turning around, Jungkook made his way out through the dark alley, where a black Audi e-tron GT was waiting for him. The tall muscular man opened the door for him as soon as Jungkook's shade in the distance turned into his clear figure walking towards him with a pissed off face.

He had better things to do than dealing with bullshit like this.

As he got in the car, his phone started ringing in his pocket. And it didn't take him long to guess who could it be.

—Jimin, you better have good news.

—Why so serious, Kook? —mocked the masculine voice on the other side.

The silence in his car only made Jimin sigh and mutter a low "Fine", giving in to what Jungkook wanted from him: an update on the negotiation.

—Remember Pedro Montes? —Jungkook rolled his eyes at the name.

—What about him?

—He's in charge of absolutely everything that happens here: drugs, gambling... He has a lot of contacts, but he said he'll only accept if you're the one he directly talks to.

—Me? Why me? —he frowned— You're there in representation of our team.

—He said something like "getting the man of Korea out of Korea" —Jimin scoffed—. He won't sit for negotiations if it's not with you. He was pretty clear with that.

After winning a spot in Marseilles, where they worked closely with other European mafias, Spain was the only place they were craving to get a spot in -moving constantly from the south to the north, until they thought they found a place in a small island located at the north-east of the Peninsula.

And it seems like it won't be enough with Jimin being there this time.

✸ ✸ ✸

Palma de Mallorca, Spain. 07:23 pm

That time of the year in Mallorca was one of the best for her. The weather wasn't too cold, but it wasn't too hot either. It was the perfect balance between the two extremes. It wasn't that full of tourists either, which made the island accessible and enjoyable for a few more weeks before tourists started raining there.

She also loved every bit of that time of the year because it allowed her to walk everywhere, without worrying about the rain or or the sweat coating her body because of the hotness -there was nothing worse than feeling that sticky liquid, and the fabric humid under her armpit after an hour of being outside.

Y/n carried the bag on her back after a grocery shopping day that got it filled with different things. And, as she crossed the bridge and entered Son Gotleu (1), she realized how living in this neighborhood was never part of her plans. It was her day to day thought, every single time she came here from work or grocery shopping. It hit her how that was her reality after seven years.

As deeper in the neighborhood she got, the harder the smell of parched pee was -mixed with the smell of pot that came from the group of dealers sitting in a bench while waiting for the night to come. The deeper she walked into the neighborhood, the more she remembered why she stayed here despite having the resources to leave and cross the pont.

She entered the communal courtyard of the old block, seeing the same old ladies of every day peeking their heads out of the balconies.

—Coming from work? —asked one of them, raising her voice.

—No, I'm coming from doing some shopping, but I'm leaving again soon —Y/n trumpeted, walking up the stairs as fast as she was able to.

The old ladies started talking between them again, something that only made her smile because it was quite a usual thing for them. Checking who came and left, and discussing the vast amount of possibilities of where that person came from or where they were heading to.

It used to bother Y/n. Until she realized all these people had nothing better to do. They barely were able to leave their homes, strutting around the neighborhood was something that didn't cross anyone's mind -especially when it was already dark.

—Oh, you're back —the old man smiled wide when he heard the door.

—Yup, but not for too long —she made her way to where he was.

When she crossed the double door to the living room, she found Jorge sitting in his corner on the couch, watching one of those cowboy movies that were only played around this time of the day.

—I bought your pills —she informed him, bringing things out of the back—, the baking soda for Carla's experiment, those cookies you like and some vegetables. Don't eat those cookies in one sitting —she warned him.

He smiled wide as he was handed the cardboard box, kissing the young girl's forehead before he went back to the couch.

Jorge was like a father to her when he collected her from the streets. He looked after her, while he was able to. That's why now that he was in such a critical state because of a heart attack he had two years ago, she didn't doubt on helping him the same way he helped her -and it was the same way for Carla, Jorge's teen granddaughter.

They were the only family she's had in the -almost- past decade.

Five minutes later, she was heading out of the building again to take the bus to her workplace. Ready for a new day, or at least she was psyching up on the idea that she was ready for whatever could happen that night. That was part of her job, never knowing what she could come upon.

As the bus crossed the same bridge she crossed just fifteen minutes earlier, she saw the contrast clearer. And she could only wish all the effort she was making would put her, Carla and Jorge on the other side as well. One step forward to a better life.

Another reason why she loved that weather so much... She could wear a jacket, and put the hood on to hide her face and hair as she was getting closer to her workplace. She was able to hide that she was getting into one of the most known brothels in Mallorca. Because working one hour away from home by bus would never be enough to hide what she was doing there.

Nobody would know it was a whorehouse if they saw it while passing by. When you first get in, it seems like the typical bar, but when you go downstairs... That's the reality of that place. Girls swaying her hips on pools, surrounded by men in heat fighting for who runs faster to book the best girl in that place.

Portals Nous gave the establishment some caché, most of the clients were rich assholes desperate to get their dicks wet without their wives knowing, but there were also average men that were willing to spend half of their salaries in just two nights.

That was the reality, her reality.

1*: One of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Mallorca.

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #mafia!au #The Only One #armpirate

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kaysfanficcorner · 1 year

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Out of This World Chapter 2: Getting to Know You

Author’s Note: Hey all! Welcome to chapter two. Thank you to everyone who read chapter one! I’ve been excited to share this, so I hope your enjoy!

Summary: The Mandalorian and his new shipmate make their way to a few planets as he hunts for quarries. In the meantime, they start to slowly get to know more about each other and conflicting feelings arise.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Female Earthling Reader

Warnings: Light sexual tension. Light reference to masterbation. Cursing. This story is eventually going to have NSFW scenes so please no one under 18 interact. If you are under age, you are prohibited from this work of fiction.

AO3

*****

It takes a few weeks for things to fall into a comfortable routine around the Razor Crest, and for you to get your “space legs” as you like to call it. Being a nanny to the child quickly becomes a second nature to you. You’ve started to learn his moods, his habits, what makes him giggle or cry. You spend your days catering to the baby’s every whim, and you’re absolutely in heaven. He’s a curious little boy and if you’re not watching him all the time he tends to get himself into mischief, yet even so you can’t help but feel he’s one of the very best children you’ve ever been hired to watch. Perhaps you’re biased because of how stinking cute he really is, but he’s genuinely just a sweet little being in need of the same love and attention that any child of any species needs in order to grow up happily.

The Mandalorian turns out to have more of a personality under that helmet of his than you’d originally expected him to, and he’s more of a hands on father than you’re used to dealing with. Most of the kids you’ve watched in the past came from slightly toxic homes, much like the one you grew up in, and you’ve usually been the one responsible for fulfilling those absent parental needs where you were able.

The Mandalorian, however, spends every moment that he’s not flying the ship, using the fresher, hunting, or sleeping, to try and pay any attention he can to the kid. He may not know what he’s doing sometimes, but it’s undeniable that Mando is a really good foster dad. He truly has the natural instincts of a father.

So far, there’s been a single stop on one planet for Mando to hunt the first quarry on his list. The hunt only takes three days, but the planet is deemed entirely too dangerous for you and the kid to be left without supervision, so the two of you stay behind with Jupiter on the tightly locked up Razor Crest.

From your view of it up in the cockpit, you can see that the sky of this planet is a swirling mixture of navy blue and bright purple, even during the day. At night there are not one, but four moons. One of which is so close to the planet itself, that a majority of the lower half of the sky is taken up by its cratered, blue-green surface. It’s truly a sight to behold for your Earthling mind. Aside from that, the forest of dark blue, almost black piney looking trees is relatively quiet aside from the odd looking bird or animal that passes by.

You only go slightly stir crazy in that seventy-two hours. You and the kid try your best to patiently wait for the bounty hunter to return, but the little guy gets somewhat restless without the presence of his dad and you miss having another adult to talk to. Eventually you do manage to learn that the kid likes your taste in music, and that he’s completely enthralled by it when you do yoga. He even learns to mimic a few of the easier poses, which is probably one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen.

His big eyes closed as he sticks his arms out in warrior pose, is a sight to behold.

“Mental note,” you say to yourself out loud as you fiddle around with painting your nails at the beginning of the third day, “get Mando to bring us some arts and crafts supplies. Maybe the kid would like making things.”

In the background, a soft techno song is playing and the kid is bobbing his little head to the beat while the cat tries to knock a few things over.

Once the Mandalorian does return a few hours later, slightly bloodied but no worse for wear, you finally get to learn what carbonite is. He shows you how he freezes the bounty alive in a block of the gross looking stuff. The poor bith, a bug-like creature to say the least, is stuck with a look of terror in its gigantic eyes. This process can apparently cause hibernation sickness which results in weakness, dehydration, dizziness, memory loss, and temporary blindness.

“That’s horrifying,” you emphasize with a hand on your chest. The kid, who is cradled in your other arm, apparently disagrees and practically claps his hands at the foggy sight of the freezing process.

“Beats having to make conversation with a criminal,” Mando responds with a small shrug, “the ones I bring in warm usually never shut up.”

Mando shows you that he brought back a fair amount of fresh food from the local market just as you’d requested. Several exotic fruits and vegetables you’ve never seen before but are excited to try. One fruit in particular seems the most enticing, mostly because Mando tells you it’s one of his personal favorites. He also informs you that he asked around about any sort of black hole phenomenon, but was mostly met with incredulity from the locals.

After getting cleaned up and changing his clothes, the Mandalorian allows you a few hours on the outside of the ship so you and the kid can get some fresh air while charging the iPad. The bounty hunter sits with his back against a tree trunk as he keeps a close eye on your attempt to get the kid to exert some of his energy, but after awhile you’re willing to bet that Mando falls asleep for about forty minutes.

When he eventually wakes up, he stands and makes his way over to where you’re laying in the grass with the kid sleeping on your stomach.

“Hey,” you say with a smile up at him. The sunlight bounces off of his helmet and blinds you for a moment before his head moves to block the sun from your eyes entirely.

“Hi,” he says back, holding a hand out to you, “Let him rest for a little while and let me show you something.”

Careful not to wake him, you gently move the baby off of you and take the offered hand. He pulls you up with ease, as if you weigh the same as the kid, and that’s the first time you realize how strong he really is.

Then he hands you a blaster. You look down at it with skepticism, before looking back up to the man with curious eyes.

He answers your unspoken question, “I’d like to teach you how to use this. For now, I want to see how well you can shoot. We’re going to start off easy and work our way up from there. When we have some down time later, I’d also like to teach you how to properly clean it and care for it. These weapons are useful, but if you don’t know your way around it then you’re just endangering yourself and others. Do you understand?”

You nod, wanting to take this new level of trust that he’s extending to you very seriously. “I understand. Thank you for trusting me.”

He nods in return, “Try not to make me regret it. Hold the blaster how you think you should and show me your stance.”

You’ve never shot a firearm before, so after pulling from your memories of what you’ve seen in action movies, you spread your legs slightly and hold it out in front of you with both hands. Your right hand is holding the blaster itself, with your finger on the trigger, and your left hand is steadying your arm.

The Mandalorian makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “Not terrible, honestly. But you need to fix your footing. Like this.”

He shows you with his own feet and you mimic him. When he’s pleased with how you look, he comes to move behind you. His body is so close to yours that it’s distracting, but you try to focus as he keeps going. Your insides are squirming feeling him this near to you.

“You never want your finger on the trigger unless you’re about to take the shot. Keep it elongated down the side, so you can slip the finger in an pull the trigger in a moments notice.” As he says this and you comply, his arms circle around you and he adjusts your elbows slightly.

Your hands begin to sweat horribly.

“Much better,” he says, taking a few steps back to observe you. You miss the physical presence of him as soon as it’s gone.

“So not a lost cause?” You ask, trying your best to hold the pose he left you in.

“Not a lost cause,” he agrees, “Why don’t you try firing at that tree?” He points to one that’s a few yards away.

You slip your finger into the trigger and pull. There’s a soft click but nothing happens. “Did I mess this up already?” You ask.

“No, I wanted to see if you would remember that the safety is on.” He replies, there’s a hint of a smirk in his voice and you narrow your eyes at him.

“That was a cheap trick,” you say with a huff. It feels slightly like he’s picking on you and your shoulders slump a little.

“I didn’t meant anything by it, I just wanted to test you. There’s no harm in having a gap in your knowledge. All that matters is the willingness to expand it.” He shows you how to turn the safety off, and steps back again. “Sorry, I wont do that again.”

“I forgive you,” you reply with a little more confidence in your voice and you take the shot. A bright blast of red goes flying into the thick woods and you watch as it disappears into the tree line.

“Try again, you can go until you make the shot. Don’t hold your breath and keep both eyes open.” He moves to lean against the tree a few yards away from you so he can keep an eye on both you and the sleeping kid.

About fifteen minutes later, you hit the tree trunk dead on. A cheer erupts from you and you do a little victory dance. You’re sure you can hear a low chuckle coming from within the beskar of Mando’s helmet, and he claps his hands in applause.

“Congratulations,” he says, “You’ll be taking down Storm Troopers in no time.”

You turn the safety back on and look at him with a raised eyebrow, “What’s a Storm Trooper?”

*****

It’s probably another few weeks of space travel, with the occasional fuel stop at a star port and a trip to an aquatic planet for another quarry, before you’re finally ready to admit to yourself just how attracted to the Mandalorian you really are. There’s no use in denying it. You felt the initial spark of attraction for him when you’d met on Nevarro, and that fire has only burned brighter every day that you’ve lived on his ship and nannied his child. Will you act on this attraction? That’s an entirely different matter all together. It’s one thing to harbor a crush, its another to act drastically just because you’re a horny mess around him and it only seems to be getting worse.

You’re attracted to a man who you cannot, and will very likely never, look into the eyes of. A man you can’t actually see, nor do you know his age or true name. What a trip.

At first you try to chalk it up to cabin fever, to being cooped up inside with only him, the baby, and the cat. Then he’ll go and do something like clean his blaster in front of you or polish the jet pack, and the sight of the cosmic gunslinger sends thrills of need through your deprived core.

The things that his lovely baritone voice can do to your body should be considered sacrilegious in every imaginable sense of the word. He’ll suddenly break a comfortable silence between you to ask you if the kid’s taken a nap yet that day or a random question about Earth, and its enough to make your mouth begin water before you’re able to answer. Enough to make you have to bite down on your left knuckles in order to prevent yourself from making obscene noises as you touch yourself later on that night in the fresher, imagining all of the dirty, depraved things you’d like to hear that voice of his whisper in your ear.

Your natural scent has pretty much taken over the cot at this point, but that first glorious week of sleeping on the ship had been insatiable. The smell of him had been on every inch of the thing. As far as you’re concerned, the sweaty, natural musk of the Mandalorian could be bottled up and sold by Gucci himself and no one would ever question it. It’s a heavenly aroma to say the least.

His persona is strong and masculine on the surface, which is initially what attracts you to him in the first place. There is another part of him though, one you’re slowly getting to see more and more of during your time together. It’s this slightly more relaxed side that only comes out when its just your little group whirling through hyperspace, that’s what is truly starting to do you in.

The only way you can really describe it, is that he’s gotten used to you being around enough that he’s begun to let his guard down a little in front of you. Not by much, but enough for you to notice.

His shoulders will flex beneath the armor as he reaches his arms up over his head to stretch mindlessly, sometimes a yawn escaping through the modulator. He’ll curse more in front of you if the kid’s not around. Words you understand, and some you don’t at all. The tone of a curse being unmistakable behind the odd phrases regardless. You’ll catch him sitting up in the cockpit every now and then, allowing Jupiter to sleep in his lap while he flies the ship. He seems to like her just as much as she likes him, or at the very least he doesn’t push her down when she jumps up to rub her head lovingly into his chest or knead at his armor plated thighs.

When he’d laughed at your joke back on Nevarro? That had only been the beginning. Mando doesn’t crack many jokes of his own, but this doesn’t stop him from chuckling at most of yours. His sense of humor is hidden under that helmet somewhere, and nothing makes you feel more accomplished than getting a miniature laugh out of him. It’s never a robust or boisterous sound, but low and hearty.

The kid will suddenly reach for Mando to hold him while in your arms and you’ll pass him over, the openly tender moments shared between unlikely foster father and son pulling effortlessly at your heartstrings. You’ve become endeared to this duo whether you’ve asked to be or not, and when Mando is in the room its all you can do not to act like a smiling, giddy mess.

The attraction you feel towards him is undeniable and strong, even without the luxury of being able to see his face. He could be the phantom of the opera inside that thing for all you know, but still the infatuation persists.

But above all else, you’re really starting to consider Mando to be your friend. That might be the most attractive thing about him.

Trying to keep these desires and feelings shoved deep down is becoming the biggest struggle of all, though. The urge to reach out and brush a hand over his forearm will overpower you, and you’ll catch yourself a moment away from your fingers stretching out towards him before clenching your fist up tightly at your side. There are two sides of your personality endlessly battling your will to ignore him in every instance.

You’ve always been a hopeless romantic, never truly content to wade through life by yourself. In the past, on Earth, this never worked in your favor with the opposite sex. Every chance at romance a failed travesty. You constantly long for the comfort of another person’s body pressed tightly against yours. You yearn to have the affection and attention showered upon you which you rarely received as a child, but with the intention to return that affection tenfold. You wish to have a friend by your side to share your life with. You want a true partner, someone to take care of you as you take care of him. As a natural caregiver from a broken home, you’ve always longed to have a family you can nurture and love freely as your own. A family entirely of your making, comprised of people you trust and respect.

Apparently for most guys this had been “too much”, leaving you to float in and out of uncomfortable situations with foolish men not worth half of your time. Not even sexually.

Embarrassingly, you’ve never slept with anyone who had the ability to make you reach an orgasm. You used to blame yourself, thinking that your self-consciousness was causing your body to freeze up in the presence of another. But as the years went on and your confidence in the bedroom grew, you’ve still never found a partner to achieve this triumph over your body. Because of this, you’ve also never been able to create a deep enough sexual connection with another person for any relationships to even stand a chance. Sex is one of your favorite things in the world, but you’ve never actually been able to enjoy it in the way you need to most.

You can’t help but think that Mando knows his way around a woman’s body, and your secret, almost nightly fantasies of him finally fixing this long standing problem for you are absolutely maddening.

And so the two sides of you wage war with one another daily. Some days you just want the Mandalorian to throw you up against the ship’s wall and fuck you until you don’t know your own name, and others you find yourself thinking that you want two of you to take the kid for a nice scenic hike should you stop on a good planet for it. You walk a very fine line between debaucherous wretch and hopeless romantic.

The fact remains, however, that you are still completely out of place in this galaxy. Your eventual departure and the eventual departure of the kid are the two main reasons that you usually force this silly, frivolous way of thinking aside. Both of you are temporary passengers on Mando’s ship, and you know that you’re already in far too deep with how attached you are to the kid. The day he leaves the Razor Crest, should that happen during your time on it, will very likely rip your heart completely in half. And you know damn well you will be just as broken-hearted if you are the one to leave first. Odds are things are bound to go back to normal for everyone on board the ship at some point, and getting attached to the Mandalorian on top of it is only asking for more trouble than you think you’re prepared to handle.

This, on top of the fact that he’s very clearly a private person to begin with, is why you stop yourself every single time you feel the urge to ask him something about himself. No matter how badly your curiosity wants to take over, you shove it deep down inside just like the rest of your infatuation with him. Besides, its not like he’d be able to answer questions like, “Hey Mando, what’s your favorite pizza topping?” The bounty hunter wouldn’t know what a pizza was if you made one for him yourself in the poor excuse of a galley.

Fuck. Now you could kill for a pizza.

*****

Similarly, Din is harboring struggles of his own behind that beskar helmet of his. Particularly in regards to the fact that you don’t ask him anything about himself. Ever. You are quite literally the most curious person Din has ever met, asking him various questions almost daily.

“How does the hyperdrive actually work?”

“Hey Mando, is the next quarry a human or some other kind of species?”

“What did this one do to end up with on a bounty on him?”

“Mando, what planet in this galaxy has the most moons? Mine only had one. It’s so cool to see multiple moons in the night sky like on that first planet. I’d love to see like six all at once.”

“What language do they speak here?”

Din is always willing to answer you, never once denying you the information you seek about the galaxy you now reside in. He never talks down to you or tries to make you feel foolish for asking, but instead tries to explain what he can to the best of his ability. The galaxy can be dangerous, life in space can be dangerous, and the more you know about your surroundings, the less Din needs to worry about you getting yourself into trouble.

One would think that this eventually gets old for Din Djarin, but it’s quite the contrary. It should annoy him. Really, it should. Yet it doesn’t. Your questions don’t pester him in the slightest. He enjoys answering you, getting to share his knowledge of the universe with you. It’s never a constant thing, and you never bombard him with too much of it all at once. Your queries are never anything other than thoughtful, drawing from a place of respect.

It usually only happens when you come across something you genuinely don’t understand, when you’ll look up at Din with those big, bright eyes filled with mystified splendor. He’s powerless not to answer you when you look at him like that. Din can’t help but find you beautiful, your sense of childlike wonder adding an extra layer of softness to your already impossibly exquisite features. It’s that same childlike wonder that also allows Din to see things that he’s always taken for granted in a new light.

He is not without questions of his own, however. Whenever you say, do, or wear something from your home world, Din cannot help but ask you about it. This planet, this Earth, you’re from seems to be just about the strangest place in the universe, and Din has seen some strange things in his heyday. The cultural differences alone are beyond him, let alone the primitive technology he’s seen you tote around the ship connected by a short wire to little white buds in your ears which you call “headphones”. He’s still getting used to the way you speak, the odd phrases you constantly spout off, but you’re usually able to get your point across to him. Din’s own growing curiosity about you is beginning to be somewhat uncontrollable.

Din is starting to consider you a friend worth getting to know.

Which is why it bothers him once he starts to realize that the one thing you’ve never asked him a single question about is himself. He’s not stupid, it doesn’t take long for him to figure it out. He’s even sure he’s caught you stop yourself from saying something to him on more than one occasion, and its nagged at him for several days after.

He knows how thankful he should be that you’ve never once pried into his personal life, but for whatever reason Din wants you to pry. Even though Din is ever the sensible and logical man, and he knows that it shouldn’t effect him in the slightest, it really, truly bothers him. Drives him slightly crazy, even. You’ve lived on the ship for a full month now, and still you ask about every kriffing thing in the galaxy besides him.

Din lets this whole thing go for another few weeks, as long as he possibly can, until he finally decides to stop driving himself mad and just put an end to it once and for all.

But in the meantime, his attraction to you grows.

The Way has no restrictions on sensuality despite the popular opinion of most beings. It’s simply seen by his people as a means to an end. A necessary aspect of life that, if not properly addressed, causes distraction and sloppiness. Both things that a warrior cannot afford, for his or her very life depends on the ability to focus in the face of battle.

Though the culture heavily consists of foundlings and there is very little need to procreate, most adult Mandalorians do eventually take another Mandalorian as a mate. If not simply as a way to deal with these natural urges effectively and for companionship. Din did have an adolescent fixation with one of the older girls in The Tribe, early on in his days with the Mandalorians, but even that had been fleeting. There is no denying that Mandalorian women are all beautiful in their own right. Strong, independent women whom Din would trust in battle without a second thought.

Hypocritically and embarrassingly, however, Din has never been able to bring himself to be attracted to another Mandalorian enough to see past the beskar helmet. This fact has always caused a deep sense of guilt within him, and a small amount of shame. It should be considered to be an honor to have a woman of such caliber at his side, but that’s not what Din most craves late at night when he’s taking care of himself in private.

No, Din wants to see gorgeous, thick hair that his fingers can get tangled in. He wants to see beautiful, lust filled eyes looking up at him with need. Those same eyes slipping closed as breathtaking facial features contort in moments of pure ecstasy brought on by his touch and his alone. Din doesn’t want the rough hands of a warrior on his bare skin, but the gentle and comforting caress of silky, delicate fingers. Soft lips grazing his neck.

Din also secretly craves to be completely nurtured by someone, to be taken care of in a way that he never has before.

Mandalorian women cannot provide these things for Din, and he cannot expect someone to be only ever be attracted to his helmet if he can’t find one attractive on someone else. He can’t even provide a potential partner with a kiss, one the simplest pleasures in the galaxy. Din’s lips have not touched another person’s flesh since he swore the oath and placed the beskar upon his young head. He’s not even sure he remembers how to do it. This is one of the many things that has always gotten in the way when it comes to women, so in recent years he’s resolved to not even bother anymore. Din Djarin is prepared to go it alone until the bitter end.

When your eyes meet his though? Even with a barrier of beskar between the two of you, the way you look up at him with such admiration in your eyes throws him for a loop nearly every time. That old way of thinking begins to melt away. Perhaps Din doesn’t want to go it alone, not all the time at least.

But... you’re inevitably going to leave. If you can find a way back to your bizarre home planet, you’re going to go and Din will likely never see you again. Just like the kid will leave him one day too. So he resolves to shove his growing desire for you so far down that he cannot feel it anymore. He’s convinced himself that he can be numb to it just like all the other times he’s had to be, until he eventually forgets about it all together and moves on with his miserable life.

*****

It’s another normal, uneventful evening in space. You’re sitting on an overturned crate, bouncing the kid up and down on one knee while Din is preparing something to eat for the three of you. This has been the unspoken evening ritual for the better part of your time on the ship, since the evening when you happened to walk in on Din attempting to keep the kid and the cat from playing too roughly with one another on top of trying to make food. He’d been obviously flustered and overwhelmed by the situation, but wouldn’t ask you for help. So you had just scooped the kid up, stroked the cat on the head, and silently pulled up a crate. He’s never once requested it, but you’ve done it every single night since.

Both of you secretly love this routine. In fact, if he is to be completely honest with himself, its Din’s favorite part of the day. Cooking a hot meal for the group a is such a simple thing, but more and more it begins to feel so... domestic. More domestic than anything Din has experienced since being a child, well before he became a foundling and subsequently a Mandalorian. It dredges up very early, blurry memories of Din on his own father’s knee while his mother makes their supper. The roles are reversed here, but the sight of his foster son sitting happily in your lap as he fixes dinner is enough to create a steady warmth to grow beneath his beskar chest plate, and he’s beginning to have a hard time trying to push it away.

As for you, at first this had been frustrating. On Earth you considered yourself to be an excellent cook, but out in the galaxy you have no idea what you’re doing when it comes to food. You miss Earth food a great deal, but its undeniable that Mando is culinarily talented. Even with the meager ingredients he’s able to pull together, he somehow always manages to come up with something far more delicious than anything you’ve been able to pull off. The kid also seems to agree, usually trying to clamber his way up to sneak more servings for himself even if he’s already had several to begin with. Food could have easily been a necessity for survival, not something Mando ever sought to take pleasure out of. You’re immensely glad that’s not the way he sees it. Usually your mouth waters at the mere thought of his cooking.

On this particular evening, you’re standing next to the Mandalorian rather than sitting on your crate. The kid is being bounced on your hip with the little silver ball he likes to steal from the cockpit. Mando has pretty much given up on taking it away at this point. The kid is holding it up to show it to his father, while saying something he clearly feels very strongly about in his nonsensical language of bubbling toddler-speak.

Din’s head tilts down from watching you bounce the child, to watch his son “talk” to him instead.

“Really?” Din says genuinely down to him in response, making an exaggerated face in spite of the kid not actually being able to see it, “You don’t say.” The little green boy smiles and coos back in delight. Din enjoys this mindless baby banter, but finds himself wondering out loud, “I wonder when you’re going to start talking, kid. It’d be nice to know what you’re saying one of these days.”

“How old is he anyway?” You ask, not looking up from the baby wiggling around in your arms.

Din responds immediately, almost casually, “He’s 50 years old. That’s why I took the bounty on him in the first place, I had no idea he was a kid.”

You turn your head up so fast that you’re sure you hear a bone in your neck crack, “50?! How is that even possible?” Your eyes scan over the tiny green thing and you can’t possibly fathom it.

“His species lives a lot longer than ours. He’s still considered to be an infant regardless of his age. This little womp rat here will probably live to be hundreds of years old,” Din explains, gently poking a finger on the child’s head.

You laugh then, shaking your head back down to the child on your hip. “And you can’t talk yet, nor can you wipe your own ass? You’re lucky you’re so adorable, little green bean.”

As Mando turns back to put the finishing touches on the meal, you keep your head tilted so that you can look at him from the corner of your eye. It isn’t lost on you that he’d called it “our” species, referring to the both of you being human. In a rare moment of feeling cocksure, you suddenly say, “So you’re a human under there after all, huh Mando?”

Din’s head jerks over to look at you, his eyebrows raising beneath the helmet. Still not really a proper question about him, but it’s formed enough like one to get his attention.

“What species did you think I was?” He counters seriously.

“That was a joke,” you say, suddenly feeling awkward. You worry that you’ve irritated him now, so your attitude becomes slightly dismissive as you turn to face away from him. “I figured you’re human, or at least humanoid. You’ve got five fingers on each hand,” you say nothing more on the subject.

Because your back is to him, Din’s eyes cannot help but land on your nice, firm backside. Truth be told... his eyes, deep brown and lusty beneath the beskar, do that a lot more than he’d readily admit. You’re wearing a black pair of what you’d once called “yoga pants” and they are... distracting to say the least.

Din curses lowly under his breath, vexed with your reluctance to talk to him about himself. He starts to play into it like he always does, pushing his irritation to the side and letting it go, telling himself its ultimately for the best not to get too close. But then you shift your footing and he watches as your ass shifts with it, rippling over to the left with the lightest of jiggles. Something within him shifts as well, and Din decides right then and there to just get the hell on with it. He sets the cooking utensils down and reduces the heat, before moving towards you.

You’re fully aware of every movement behind you without needing to turn around. You can sense Mando turning the heat on the food down before coming towards you. When you feel the height of him just a foot or so behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The warm sensation returns low down in your belly, and your palms begin to moisten slightly. You’re not sure whether to face him or not. Deciding on the latter, you keep your back to him.

His modulated voice hovers about six or so inches above your head, “Why is it that you never ask me anything?”

That warmth in your belly becomes a steady heat at the sound of his voice. Squashing that down as best as you can, you sit the kid down on the floor and spin back around to face him. You’re very used to speaking to the helmet by now, and you see yourself raise an eyebrow in its reflective surface. You’d heard the way he’d asked it, but you decide to play dumb, “I ask you stuff all the time, Mando. I just asked about the kid a second ago! Sometimes I worry that it’s actually annoying.”

“If it was constant it would be,” he says honestly, head tilting ever so slightly to the right as his forearms cross just over his abdomen. “But, no. Not annoying. I know how... different this galaxy is for you, and it is a dangerous place. The more you know, the less I have to worry about saving your ass from something you could have prevented yourself.”

That head tilt to the right is most certainly a sign of him smirking under there, you’re willing to bet your Bowie t-shirt on it. And your knees wobble a little at the sound of his voice making a passing mention of your ass. If only he knew how deeply your depravity ran, of the things you’ve fantasized about him doing to your ass.

Face flushed, you force yourself to recover, “So what’s the deal then, chrome dome?”

He retorts evenly with, “You ask me about everything under the stars aside from, well, me. I’d like to know why.”

That’s not really what you’d expected at all, and it leaves you floored for a quick moment. So he noticed how hard you’d been trying to avoid that particular subject after all. You think about it earnestly before looking right in the visor, once again hitting your mark without even knowing it.

“You’re obviously a very private person,” you say, gesturing up to the helmet, “I may not understand that, but I can respect it. It would be wildly inappropriate for me to bombard you with personal questions. I’m your guest and since I may very well never find a way to make it back to my home world, I’d rather not overstay my welcome on this ship too quickly.”

Din’s head doesn’t move, but his shoulders soften slightly. “That’s...” he trails off, considering what he’s about to say next, “kind of you, to respect my privacy. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to be afraid to ask. You’re a curious woman, so I’m sure you have your questions. If you get too personal or if you do bother me too much at once, then I reserve the right not to answer you.”

You look up at him through thick lashes while your parted lips form into a small, shy grin. Din feels it then, something that had been long dormant within him before the day you came into his life. Pure, unadulterated, desire.

It stirs low inside of him like one of Nevarro’s lava pits, boiling steadily and beginning to crack at his once steely reserve. This is certainly not the first time a reaction like this has spurred within him, but this is by far some of the strongest attraction he’s ever felt towards another person. Din’s had a handful of encounters with women of various species over the years, and perhaps even felt a substantial sense of attraction to a few of them in his younger days, but never anything nearly so powerful as the aching, desperate need he feels when he looks down at you.

Then you reach your hand out towards him, towards the beskar pauldron on his right shoulder and your mouth opens as if to begin speaking. He quickly assumes that you’re about to ask him about the armor itself, what it’s made of. Technically still not an actual question about him. Downtrodden and genuinely disappointed, Din begins to prepare himself to begrudgingly explain the beskar to you, until you bypass the pauldron itself to trace a tentative finger over the signet there instead.

You delicately run the tip of your index finger over the mudhorn skull, looking up at him to meet the visor with that look of wonder Din is so powerless against. He might as well be tossed into a sarlacc pit right in that moment. He’s done for, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.

“What’s this represent?” You ask softly, running your finger up the length of the long horn. “I’ve wondered about it since we met. I can tell it’s the skull of an animal, but does it mean something special to you?” You chuckle a little, casting your eyes down to the symbol again, “We have an animal that kind of looks like this on Earth. It also has a horn on the end of its snout but not quite so huge. It’s called a rhinoceros.”

“Rhinoceros,” Din repeats the foreign word slowly, stumbling over some of the pronunciation. What an odd name for an animal.

You laugh brightly at hearing the word on his tongue, grinning up at him, “Rhino for short. I assume that this thing is probably gigantic in comparison to the thing on Earth, just like a lot of things in this galaxy seem to be.”

“It’s called a mudhorn,” he says simply after letting you ramble, “I had to kill one in battle, so it became my signet. My clan insignia, clan Mudhorn.”

You feel a pit in the bottom of your stomach form at that. If clan means the same thing out here as it does back on Earth, then he’s referring to his family. Does Mando have some family back on some planet that he’s never mentioned? Swallowing the lump in your dry throat, and though the childish part of you doesn't even want to know the answer, you ask him, “How many people are in your clan?”

But then Mando scoops the kid up as the little bugger runs between the two of you, and the helmet again fixes on you as he says, “Just two.”

Your heart just about turns to pudding within your chest right there. It’s all you can do not to clutch a hand to your collarbone and make a noise of endearment. The kid is truly all the Mandalorian has in this world? And one day he’ll inevitably have to give the green toddler up if they ever find his own kind? The muscle pumping blood through your body both swells and breaks for Mando all at once.

Deciding not to press your luck and that one question is enough for now, you’re satisfied with this new information about your mysterious cosmic companion for the time being.

But then he surprises you by saying, “If you’d like to join me up in the cockpit after I take my meal, I could tell you more about it.”

You’re sure the surprise is evident on your face, but you smile regardless, “I’d like that,” is all you can say.

No one speaks after that. He portions out a bowl of food for the three of you and hands you yours, making you feel nervous as your hand brushes against his glove. You thank him for dinner and he nods in a silent welcome before quickly making his way up to the cockpit. You’re a giddy mess as you scramble to deposit a protein pack in Jupiter’s bowl and situate yourself with the kid to eat your own meals. You’re so wound up that you barely want to eat, but force yourself to do so anyway. You let the kid have what you can’t finish.

Up in the cockpit the helmet drops to the ground with a loud thunk before he’s even in his seat. Din has never eaten so quickly in his life.

Within five minutes he’s calling down to you that you can come up when you’re ready, and in a gesture you know all too well at this point, his gloves appear from the opening in the ceiling for the kid. He passes his empty bowl down, and you thank him for supper as you then pass the kid up to him in exchange. You have to excuse yourself to the fresher to pull yourself together before joining them upstairs.

When you eventually do make your way up to the cockpit, you take your usual seat behind and to the left of the Mandalorian. He turns the pilot’s seat to face you while the kid sits in the other passenger seat, too happily occupied by the silver ball to notice the adults’ growing tension in the tiny control room. Mando could be making stupid faces under that thing for all you know, but you’re willing to bet he’s fixing you with some sort of serious look. It causes you to squirm in your seat, flushing as you look away from him shyly.

Even on Earth, there had never been a single, solitary man who had this much of an inaugural effect on you. Mando’s got steady a hold over you already, and you’re pretty sure you’re reaching that point of being willing to do literally anything to be close to him. You suddenly find yourself desperately wanting to take care of him in some way, to show some sort of affection in the way you know best.

“Would you like to hear about the mudhorn?” Din asks, looking from you to the kid. Does he want to tell you the truth about the kid? Din’s pretty sure he can trust that you are who you say you are at this point, and that you harbor no secret ill will towards the child. You’re not going to suddenly turn him in to the Empire. Hell, you probably still don’t even understand what the Empire used to be, let alone what the shambles of it are now.

When he looks back to you, you nod in the affirmative, “Only if you want to tell me.”

You’re surprised by his willingness to tell you this story, and you’re equally surprised by how long he makes the act of telling it. Mando is a man a few words generally, and this is the most you’ve heard him use his handsome sounding voice in one sitting since the two of you met. Usually you’re the one doing the talking, telling long winded stories. But because he is a man of few words Mando chooses them very carefully, and so he’s able to paint a fairly clear picture in your head of the events which led to the mudhorn. Kuill and the blurrgs. Finding the kid, returning to the Razor Crest to find it scrapped by Jawas, chasing said Jawas down and having them demand the egg of a mudhorn in return for the ship’s parts. Then he tells you about getting his ass handed to him by the mama mudhorn, nearly dying in the process, before the kid saved him.

“What do you mean the kid saved you?” You ask, incredulously looking over at the toddler as he still continues to suck on the silver ball and babble to himself. “Is that some kind of metaphor for, like, what you were missing in your life?”

“What? No, not like that.” Din says with a shake of the head, though something in your words rings true for him in the back of his mind. “The kid, he can do things. Has... abilities.”

Again you look to the child, and your jaw drops open, “Like he’s got superpowers? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey, watch the language in front of the kid,” Mando says sternly, “He can do things with his mind. You need to know about it incase he ever does it in front of you. Usually it’s a defensive thing, but I’ve also seen him use it to cause trouble.”

You gloss over the thing about the kid for a moment, focusing instead on the light scolding you’d just received. He hadn’t been rude about it, in fact the dad-like way he’d said it makes you smile. “I thought you guys don’t even have that word in basic,” you say, laughing.

“You say it enough that I was able to gather it’s inappropriate nature from the connotation in which you use it. What does it mean, anyway?” He asks, curious.

Embarrassed slightly, and not wanting to think about the way you’d love to hear him say that particular word to you, you shake your head. “That’s an adults-only explanation... So back to the little superhero over there?”

“That’s all. He used his magic powers or whatever they are to stop the mudhorn from charging me, and I was able to kill it. We retrieved the egg, and I got my parts back.” Mando replies, and you still can’t wrap your head around that tiny thing having abilities.

It’s not that you don’t believe it. You’ve been sucked through a man-made black hole in your grandfather’s basement and ended up stranded billions of light years away from home. Of course you believe it, you just don’t know how that could come out of something so precious and innocent.

“Well that’s certainly not what I thought you were going to tell me,” you breathe out with a shake of the head, “I’m shocked.”

The Mandalorian actually laughs a little beneath the beskar, “Imagine my shock. That thing was floating off the ground. Poor kid slept for nearly a full day after.”

“Poor fella,” you say, standing to scoop the kid up for an embrace. You begin bouncing him back and forth while making your way to stand beside the pilots seat as Mando turns it back to face forward. “It’s hard work protecting your dad from big, scary mudhorns, huh?” The kid just babbles up at you, and you hand the silver ball over to Mando so it can be screwed back into the shift.

“What happened after that?” You ask, wanting to know everything about him now that you know he’s willing to tell you.

“That’s a story for another time,” Din says while reaching with his right arm to screw the ball in. The injury in his shoulder from the previous week flares up then, causing him to hiss out, “Dank farrik,” under his breath.

You can’t help yourself, “Language in front of the kid, Mando.”

“I deserve that,” he says, still hissing in pain as he slowly pulls his arm back with a groan, opening and closing his fingers several times.

“I’m kidding. Are you okay?” You ask, genuinely concerned for him.

He nods, “Pulled my shoulder hunting the last quarry. Still sore.”

You set the baby back down on the passenger seat and return to Mando’s side, “That was almost a week ago, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Din says somewhat curtly. He’s had worse.

“Well it doesn’t help that you’ve been sleeping up here for well over a month. That can’t be comfortable,” you suddenly feel incredibly guilty for having taken his bed, “Please take the cot back tonight, I’d hate to see you make it any worse. I’ll find somewhere else.”

“No,” he argues again, “I’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “So the men in this galaxy are stubborn too, huh? And here I thought it was just an Earth thing.”

Din doesn't know what to say to that, so he says nothing, which elicits an exasperated sigh from you. He suddenly feels your hand on his right pauldron for the second time that night, but this time it begins to pull. His own hand flies up to catch yours and the helmet snaps up at you while the leather covered fingers around your hand apply a light amount of pressure. This is the most he’s ever touched you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, halting your movements.

“Relax,” you draw out the word, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. You need that shoulder rubbed, and I can’t do that for you with your armor on.” Feeling rather brave, you bend to hover your head beside the helmet, placing both hands on the pauldron and pulling lightly at it again. You drop your voice down an octave, softly saying, “Let me take care of you, Mando.”

Those words again leave Din at a loss for any of his own, and his hand melts back down to his lap. He doesn’t stop you when you pull his pauldron off completely, setting it down carefully on the seat you usually sit in. He lets you do the same to the vambrace on his forearm, using his other hand to help you get it off. His entire right arm suddenly feels so bare without the beskar, in spite of still being covered in layers of clothing.

“Can you take the cloak off too?” You ask nervously. This is quickly becoming uncharted territory.

Din complies, taking he beskar off of his left arm as well before handing all of it over to you. You set everything down so gingerly that Din can sense how much you respect his armor just from the delicate way you handle it. “Thank you. For being so careful with that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of messing it up. What’s this stuff made of anyway? It’s lighter than I expected it to be.”

“Mandalorian beskar. It’s one of the most indestructible substances in the galaxy, and weighs less than most common metals.”

“Like vibrianium! Heh, that’s awesome,” you laugh.

“Let me guess. Earth thing?”

“You got it.”

Din is too lost in the idle conversation to realize how bare he truly is at first, but this is certainly the most exposed he’s ever been around you. As you’ve been talking, everything on his torso aside from the thin, long sleeved undershirt and his gloves have been simultaneously removed and placed in the passenger seat. He finds himself wondering how he suddenly let it come to this.

Maker, it’s been so long since he’s been touched. His stomach is doing strange things inside of his body, his skin tingling all over.

You are similarly wondering the same thing, as you look down and get the tiniest glimpse of skin on the back of his neck. A small sliver of flesh tucked between his shirt collar and the base of the helmet. It appears to be tan, which should suggest that he’s naturally so. You highly doubt he has ever laid half naked in the sun just to vainly darken his skin tone, but that’s a sight you’d surely love to see. That little bit of skin nearly breaks you, but you ignore it.

Coming to stand directly behind the pilot’s seat, you instruct him to lean forward slightly and he complies. Your hands come to rest on either of his shoulders, and you suddenly catch a whiff of that scent from the cot. His scent. You breathe it in, and begin knead in your knuckles into his back. You start in near his spine and push both up and out, when a loud noise that sounds almost pained escapes him. You can see your own surprised expression in the silver reflection on the back of his head, moving your thumbs to rub circles into the base of his neck, just below the exposed patch of skin.

“Are you okay?” You pause to check on him

“Keep going,” he grunts out, and so you do.

You work at his shoulders for a good five minutes, focusing extra attentiveness on the shoulder he’s having trouble with. He makes noises here and there, but other than that you both stay fairly quiet. After you’ve given his shoulder enough attention, you work both of your hands slowly down his right arm. Your thumbs press into the knotted bicep, then the tricep, and Mando’s usually tense body practically liquefies into the seat under your grasp.

“Has anyone ever done this for you?” You ask seriously, making your way now down to his tight forearm.

“No,” Din says after a moment, groaning when you hit a particularly sensitive knot, “Never-gah-had anyone offer.”

“Never? Their loss,” you say, pulling his arm up towards you to stretch it out straight. He lets you guide him easily. “Does your hand hurt as well?”

Mando nods, and without prompting you kneel down beside him to get at a better angle and begin tentatively undoing the strap of his glove. Your fingers stall around his wrist as your eyes meet the visor, wordlessly asking for his permission for what you’re about to do, and he nods again. It hitches in your throat slightly, but you take a deep breath regardless to prepare yourself to cross this next line.

Tugging at the clay colored tips, you begin to gently pull the glove from his hand. The skin revealed beneath the leather is the same tan as the skin on the back of his neck, solidifying your theory that this is a natural occurrence. The knuckles are slightly dry, with small scars resting in between some of the rough peaks of bone and dark hairs dusting the fleshy terrain. The glove falls to his lap as you remove it completely, examining each finger carefully before flipping his hand entirely so you can examine his palm. All the usual lines and finger prints are there, and there’s an old burn scar just below his thumb where his wrist and palm meet. It looks like the initial wound had been a nasty one. You run your own thumb over it and look at the helmet again.

“How did you get this?” You ask.

“Don’t remember. Have so many that I lose track,” he replies.

“You have nice hands,” you say casually, not surprised when he says nothing in return. Instead you make yourself focus on the work, pressing into the palm and making your way up each finger with equal attention to each digit. His thumb pops when you unintentionally pull on it just the right way, and his entire body jerks forward a little.

This goes on for another few moments, until your own hand begins to cramp up on you. You pull it back suddenly, cracking your middle finger with a low hiss before yanking on your own thumb and spinning your wrist a few times.

“You okay?” Mando asks, sitting up slightly to look at you.

“Yeah just my hand cramping. I may need to call it quits,” you say, beginning to pull away before he stops you. For a moment his bare hand is just holding yours, and your mouth begins to severely dry up.

“Wait, let me. This hand?” Mando says, and you simply nod, dumbstruck. He quickly pulls the glove off of his other hand, and begins kneading both of his bare thumbs into your palm. “So soft,” he murmurs to himself, though you can hear him clear as day. Neither of you address it.

“Good grief,” you mutter as he hits the sore spot below your thumb, holding back a moan.

The Mandalorian mimics the same way you had massaged his hand, working his way slowly up each one of your slender fingers until he reaches the painted nails. It’s over in a matter of minutes and you eventually pull your hand back to shake it a few times, wiggling your fingers. When the audacity of what just happened occurs to you, you cannot help but blush. You’re still kneeling down beside Mando, looking up at the helmet bashfully.

“Thank you,” you say, casting your eyes back down to his unconfined hands.

Din doesn’t even consider the next thing he does. Involuntarily, his right hand reaches out to run over your hair, moving some of it out of your face. “Likewise, ner burc’ya.” he says lowly.

Puzzled by hearing him speak what is obviously another language, you look to him for an explanation. “What does that mean?”

“It’s Mando’a for ‘my friend’,” he says in a tone that brings heat to your cheeks.

Then he pulls away to begin replacing the gloves over his hands. You’re disheartened slightly both that he’s no longer touching you and to see his mesmerizing skin disappear once more. You cannot help the sudden longing you feel to see more of it, and in very particular places.

“How’s your shoulder?” You ask, standing to grab the suddenly tired looking kid and bring him over to the Mandalorian, knowing full well how much Mando likes to hold the kid as he falls asleep. This has never been discussed between you, but you know it to be true.

“Better, still not great,” Din says honestly, reaching for the increasingly sleepy toddler.

“I think you should sleep in the cot tonight,” you insist again, “and I’m not really willing to take no for an answer.”

Din looks up to where you stand beside him, fixing him with a pointed look. He knows it’s probably not worth arguing, and he does miss being able to lay out properly. “What about you?”

You wave him off, “I’ll make due, isn’t that what you said to me? You deserve a good night of sleep too, Mando. Especially if there’s another quarry only two days away.”

Din decides that you have a point, and nods, “Fine. Just for a few hours.”

Your eyes roll unceremoniously, “For fuck’s sake, sleep for as long as you need to.”

*****

As Din climbs into the cot later that night, the smell of you is completely overwhelming. Even with his helmet on, your natural aroma is so distinct. Some of your things are strewn about inside, as you’ve clearly made yourself at home over the past several weeks. There’s the small bottle of that strange black liquid you like to decorate your nails with, as well as a dark purple garment you wear almost daily. You’ve told him it’s called a “hoodie”. Though you’ve managed to make it seem more comfortable with the addition of a pillow and blanket, everyone on the ship is aware that a real bed would be far more preferable.

The kid would usually already be asleep in the hammock above Din’s head by now, but you’d suggested letting him sleep in the pram for the night so that Din could get some sleep of his own without interruption. So once the door slides shut behind him, he’s completely alone. Din normally just sleeps with the helmet on for fear of not wanting to be woken up off guard without it, but something makes him slide the thing off of his head and place it in the storage net hanging on the back wall next to your backpack, soon followed by his gloves. He’s without his boots already and still without the beskar on his torso, all more suggestions of yours. You’d sternly told him you expected him to get as comfortable as possible, and so Din complies with this demand.

Your scent is one of the most wonderful things Din has ever experienced. Without the helmet on, his sense of smell is assaulted by you. He can’t help himself as he lifts the black blanket up to his uncovered face, inhaling as much of you as he possibly can. When his head hits the pillow he also can’t help but to nuzzle his nose into the soft fabric, breathing in your essence as if it is the very oxygen his body needs in order to live.

Din falls asleep clutching your purple hoodie to his chest, while thinking about how soft your hand felt in comparison to his.

When he wakes several hours later, Din takes one last instant to enjoy the aroma around him without the barrier of beskar. His dark eyes slip closed while he savors the moment, before replacing the helmet to its rightful perch on his head and making his way out of the cot to find you and the kid. His boots are waiting for him just outside, so he slips those on as he looks around. There’s no sign of either of you anywhere on the first floor of the ship, not even the cat.

Din climbs up to the second floor to look for you, the cockpit door sliding open with the usual swishing sound. The overhead lights have been dimmed to nothing, so the only real light is coming from the various illuminated buttons up front. At first he walks in far enough only to notice that the empty pram is in the kid’s usual seat, and his beskar is still where he’d left it in yours. He stops right in his tracks once he gets far enough inside to actually see you, his chest swelling almost painfully at the sight before his eyes.

You’re curled up in the pilot’s seat at an angle that has got to be doing horrendous things to your back, one leg tucked underneath your ass while the other is propped up on an area of the control panel without any actual controls. The kid is sleeping soundly on your chest, his ears turned down in a relaxed position with his head turned to face towards Din’s direction. A green fist is curled up tightly in your shirt, while the kid’s little mouth hangs open and the tiniest bit of drool escapes out the side and onto the fabric.

Also sleeping soundly, you’ve got your head of wild hair leaning back into the seat’s headrest as your own mouth hangs open a little. One arm is draped protectively around the kid, and the other dangles uselessly off the side of the armrest. Din’s cloak is draped around the two of you as a makeshift blanket, and the cat is curled up into a ball of fluff on your lap, just below the kid. One of Jupiter’s tawny eyes opens to look skeptically up at him, before she closes it again and readjusts her sleeping position.

The image of this, the emotions it stirs within him, leaves Din’s head nearly ringing from the intensity of it. This quiet moment of serene hyperspace dancing in the background of his ship, of his home. You, easily most beautiful woman he’s ever met, holding his sleeping child to your breast. His cloak draped around the two of you, almost symbolic of what this little group is slowly beginning to mean to him.

A whisper of a thought begins to prick at the back of his mind then. A dangerous, self destructive thought which can only lead Din Djarin down a path of heartache should he let things get out of hand.

Once he hears his own voice murmur the words inside his head, he realizes that things were already well out of hand when it had only been him and the kid. Now, with the addition of you in the equation, it’s actually becoming quite the complicated situation. Din is now in a very treacherous new land, the thought echoing once more through his mind before he pushes it as far away as he can.

Don’t want them to leave...

*****

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scarletlich · 2 years

Note

Heyo you offered to talk about the memes in the Chinese dsmp community and yup here I am to listen bc this is cool (also the fact that tommy is sometimes legit called child is fucking hilarious to me lol)

I will first add a slight disclaimer, I have been less active lately in Chinese dsmp community (wow back in the day I was part of a translation team too...) so my memes may be a bit outdated.

For some context, I'll explain a bit about how bilibili is structured. Here's a screenshot from Dream's 1v4 Manhunt Finale. As you can see, there are bullet comments on top of the video (if you scroll down there will also be comments below the video like on YouTube), sort of like chat on streams. Some of the bullet comments have lots of likes, such as the one with a yellow thumbs up next to it (it says ***At this point Antfrost is secretly doing something***).

The ones I have been keeping up with the most on bilibili were Dream's manhunts and Technoblade, so there'll probably be more of their memes in this list.

muffinhead 松饼脑袋 this actually means pancake head, one of the initial translators mistakenly translated muffin as pancake but it stuck and is now a meme. Also theoretically they could've used 头 instead of 脑袋 but that also stuck.

Dream's opening "only X% aren't subscribed": 白嫖不分国界 "getting/taking things for free is an international activity". When you watch a video on bilibili without leaving a like or coins (which you get for free by logging in) or subscribing it's described as taking something for free.

There's a specific type of meme called 空耳 (lit: empty ear) which is how people mishear English. These are a bit hit or miss for me since I am a native English speaker as well, but here's a couple more common ones:

"leave me alone" sounds like 李云龙 Li Yunlong (1919-1965) who was a general in the People's Liberation Army and there was a movie made about him in 2005 I believe.

In the manhunt where the hunters get enchanted diamond armor Bad excitedly chants "shiny squad! shiny squad!" but viewers in the bullet comments misheard this as "Chinese squad". After seeing that comment I couldn't unhear it either.

半条命 "half a life" Every time Dream has half a heart left somebody will come up with a fancy title to describe the scenario, and people will spam 封印解除 "the seal (on his power/skill) has been broken". Examples of titles: 半条命：亡命天涯 "Half a Life: Death at the Cliffs/Edge of the Sky" 半条命：山谷危机 "Half a Life: Danger in the Canyon" (these are pretty mediocre examples, there are better ones but I can't think of them right now)

D道站 (since dream is also shortened to D) is a pun off of 地道战, a 1966 classic Chinese movie about the Sino-Japanese War, it means tunnel warfare and is used for whenever Dream tunnels around during manhunt.

They also have the dudududu meme, of course. They call it 松饼处刑曲, "muffin" sentencing (like sentencing a crime) song

Techno was a known fan of the esports donghua (donghua is to China as anime is to Japan) The King's Avatar 《全职高手》 and talked about it onstream before, he even read the entire over thousand chapter webnovel. In fact, fans found his comments on the English translation and he was in the novel's Discord server (it was linked to his Discord account iirc so it was him). He also once made his nick on hypixel OneAutumnLeaf referencing 一叶知秋, the main character's original username. (Sidenote I remember getting salty when people were commenting "webnovel? just say fanfiction" it's not fanfiction! it's original fiction! just because webnovels aren't a thing in the US... no need to say it in such a disparaging way... anyway...)

Of course Chinese fans would know about his memes with Sun Zi (Sun Tzu but modern transliteration) and The Art of War, as well as when he intentionally misquotes. The Republic-era author 鲁迅 Lu Xun is also often misquoted as a meme so these jokes often appear 鲁迅：这个我熟 "Lu Xun: I am familiar with this (experience of being misquoted)". Sometimes people comment on how incredibly long the English translation of Sun Zi's lines are.

中国文化传播大使 Techno is jokingly called Ambassador of Spreading Chinese Culture because of his usage of The Art of War, and to be honest he really truly understood the concepts he quoted lmao, he used them very well.

日常和粉丝互相80 Techno and his fans bully each other on the daily

There was that time Techno described Dream as a 刑天 Xingtian, a Chinese mythological warrior who was beheaded and then basically has eyes where his nipples are and a mouth on his stomach, so Chinese fans sometimes call him the green Xingtian, they also call him 晴天娃娃 which is actually a Japanese thing, they look like this:

Skeppy often starts and ends his videos with things like "like or die tmr" and the bullet comments will spam 永久反弹 which means "eternal reflection", its basically just a "no u"

On funny interactions/bullying between Phil and his "sons" or Wilbur and Fundy, commenters like to spam 父慈子孝 which is a Chinese idiom meaning "compassionate father and filial son(s)"

I might add to this post in reblogs if I remember any more memes unique to Chinese fandom. I am not active on lofter dsmp circles (which you can think of as equivalent to tumblr) or weibo (analogous to twitter), only bilibili (similar to youtube) so that's where my memes come from.

#dream smp #dsmp #dreamwastaken #technoblade #skeppy #badboyhalo #wilbur soot #philza #itsfundy #antfrost #long post #chinese dsmp fandom

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melis-writes · 2 years

Text

She’s a Tiger [Tony Montana x Reader 18+ Smut] Oneshot.

Read on AO3.

18+, explicit smut oneshot.

“I like to look at what’s mine, baby.” / “You want it that badly and rough, huh?”

Loyalty, money and trust are the only three principles Tony's revered since the attempt on his life at his estate and his divorce with Elvira. Meeting you amidst his new business deals, what you and Tony have had with one another behind closed doors is anything but innocent. Tony wanted you the moment he saw you and decided nothing would get in his way. Being able to spend as much time as you wanted with Tony while on business, both of your sexual desires matched into a three year sexual relationship with Tony's intention to go further with you. As the new owner of The Babylon Club, you've never shied away from a good time and as Tony's made excuses to come and see you time and time again, tonight he takes you back to your estate and gives you a rough night in that you've been begging for.

[WARNINGS]: Drinking/alcohol consumption / Wine play / Mentions of drugs / Heavy touching and teasing / Dirty talk / Rough sex / Spanking / Rough face and hair grabbing / Rough oral sex / Rimming / Slapping / Orgasm edging / Spit play / Fingering.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: My first Tony Montana x Reader (smut 😛) oneshot is finally here!! I promise you all it was well worth the wait. 🥵 The smut in this fic revolves around rough smut, so please make sure you check out the warnings. 🙏🏻 If you know my writing style, you know I can't stand reading "Y/N" or "reader", so the reader in this oneshot is named Celeste. ✨ Multi-chapter fic coming when...!? We'll have to see! 👀 All I have to say is until then, enjoy one smutty night in with rough Tony in bed sharing a bottle of wine. 🥴🔥

[ Babylon Club, 1:00 AM ]

Tony’s no stranger to the Babylon Club and its flashing lights, crowds of sweaty people dancing, pop and techno music blaring over the speakers while exotic cocktails and bottles of wine easily costing somebody’s monthly paycheque are served by the dozen.

Sights such as cocktail waitresses talking up customers at the front of the bar, patrons snorting cocaine off their credit cards in the bathrooms, bouncers keeping watch, and hookups in the corner are just the ordinary as Tony and Manny remain surrounded by the carefree and upbeat aura of the Babylon Club.

That’s the way it’s been for you just as it has for anyone else. The Babylon Club makes you millions a month; a truth Tony, Manny, and your father both know.

What your father doesn’t know is that you’ve been fucking his favorite Miami drug lord almost as long as the two have known one another and worked with each other.

Tony hit his own private jackpot with Manny knowing he couldn’t even get a share of the big money working for street rats like Frank Lopez.

Playing it big and making it big as Tony’s new motto after he and Manny singlehandedly took down every one of Sosa’s assassins sent to his estate which in itself sent out a dangerous method to anyone who had their eyes on Tony Montana.

Tony Montana isn’t a threat to be taken lightly. Tony Montana isn’t to be fucked with. Tony Montana isn’t your average Joe smuggling powder out on the street and neither is anybody acquainted with him. Tony Montana is the man with the money and the power—two traits your father valued in a business partner.

Born and raised in Miami, Florida coming from money and knowing money, your father owns every major hotel, casino, and resort in the entire state with a monopoly over the tourism industry.

Being an only child and his only daughter, you’ve always been one to manage and help out in your line of the family business now working with Montana Management Company to launder drug money and sell cocaine in Miami.

Tony’s now been under this business for three years with mutual trust and liking for your father—getting along with him and especially you on a personal level whether it's business talks or simply sharing a drink at the club. The big life has paid off for both Tony and Manny indefinitely.

As your own investment and as a birthday present, your father bought the Babylon Club and registered it under your name three years ago, even when Frank and Elvira were regular patrons at the time.

Tony and Manny have always been entitled to free drinks and service at the Babylon, but Tony’s never shied away from giving luxurious tips knowing just to who the club belongs.

When your father decided to meet with Tony and discuss the opportunity to do business with him for the first time three years ago, that was also the day you met Tony for yourself.

[ 3 Years Ago ]

“In all honesty,” your father glanced down at the endless array of numbers printed over a financial statement before he shook his head. “These numbers mean nothing to me. Your name is enough.”

“Who told ya first?” Tony took a puff of his Cuban cigar, completely and utterly relaxed in front of your father as compared to the formal and upright sitting Manny to his side. “That cockroach Sosa or Lopez?”

“Lopez, to be honest with you.” Your father chuckled and set the paper down. “Sosa choked on his own blood before I could even get a word out of him.”

“So now you know.” Manny gave a grin, “that says enough for us. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Your father repeated with a small scoff as he raised his cocktail glass up to his lips. “I think you’re either a smart businessman or a dead businessman, so,” taking a large sip, your father set his drink back down. “I’m gonna take advantage of what those two bastards lost out on.”

Just then, you knocked on the door of your father’s office lightly enough to be heard but not to interrupt his conversation—carrying a suitcase in your free hand.

“Ah, come in.” Your father’s attention peaked, expecting you. “There she is now.”

You turned the doorknob and pushed open the door, aware you were a little over five minutes late to the meeting but only because of what you were carrying with you.

Tony turned his head towards the door in surprise, expecting no further company, especially from a “she”, whereas Manny kept his attention focused on the banking statements scattered over your father’s office desk.

You knew your father had been meeting with two new businessmen today and you were one of the first to see them escorted inside with security.

You neither knew the businessmen’s names nor saw their faces properly but if it’s one thing that caught your eye and almost caused you to do a doubletake as you came to approach your father, it was locking eyes with Tony Montana.

From the moment that you had walked in carrying the suitcase close to you, the man with the short cut, choppy hair and pinstripe blue suit worn with a carefreeness to reveal the gold necklaces over a peek of his chest hair, had caught your attention instantly.

Feeling a tingle of arousal from the quick attraction, you forced your eyes off of Tony as quickly as you had put them on him and walked up to your father with the suitcase. “Everything’s all settled, dad.”

‘Dad?’ Tony thought to himself and let his greedy eyes dart over every inch of your body in the flowing, white summer dress that hugged over your curves.

“Ah, perfect. Thanks, darling.” Your father gave you a warm smile, gesturing to the middle of his table. “Please set it down here—I wanna show our newest partners what they’ve been itching for since they got here.”

While Manny politely looked up to acknowledge your presence now in the room, Tony was all the more amused to see his newest and wealthiest business partner had a daughter just as cunning as him and a part of the business.

“Tony, Manny,” your father looked back at the two, beginning to introduce them to you. “This is my daughter. You’ll see she’s no different from you and me in our little operation. She owns the Babylon Club under our family name. Honey,” your father first pointed at Manny, “Manny Ribera,” then to Tony, whom you couldn’t help but catch his gaze over you, “and Tony Montana.”

“Mm, nice to meet you.” Purposefully, you extended your hand out to Manny to shake his first.

“Nice to meet you too.” Manny gave you his signature, charming smile.

“Babylon Club, huh?” Tony didn’t bother with introductions as he firmly shook your hand. “Think I’ve seen you there a few times before.”

Curiosity sparks in your eyes. “Haven’t seen you around before, Mr. Montana.”

“I’ll come ‘round more often then,” Tony smirked, causing your father and Manny to chuckle as you both began to pull your hands back from each other.

Although you could pinpoint the exact moment you found yourself attracted to this Tony Montana figure as when you first walked into your father’s office, it was another thing entirely to feel his firm hand squeezing over yours and knowing just who you were meeting.

“I look forward to it then.” You told him.

The scent of Tony’s expensive cologne hit you first, and the gold adorning his collarbones, the unbuttoned dress shirt Tony was wearing and the look of confident boldness over his expression only confirmed how sexy you found this man. Even with Tony’s entrance to your father’s manor, you could tell he carried himself like he took no shit from anybody and owned the place.

“You can call me Tony.” Tony grazed his tongue over his lips and wet them without taking his eyes off of you. “What do you call yourself?”

Tony’s eyes must have admired every inch of your body from your clothes to your eyes, the shape of your breasts, your thighs, your ass down to the natural posture your body was in.

Seeing and knowing for himself that you were just as confident as he is in your words and actions—that you weren’t a nobody—turned Tony on even more.

The Babylon Club would now just be an excuse for Tony to drop by with or without Manny to see you time and time again, and that was an advantage Tony wouldn’t be giving up.

The gold over Tony’s slender fingers glistened underneath the bright lights in your father’s office and emphasized all the more that Tony was clearly giving it away to you right away that he was attracted to you.

Manny already felt the second-hand embarrassment from how Tony was coming off to you with his facial expression alone—something he would tease Tony about later without a doubt.

After telling Tony your name, you took your seat next to your father across from Tony and Manny.

It was then that your father gestured back to the suitcase you had brought in and his security approached from the other end of the room to open it up in front of Tony and Manny.

The suitcase popped open to reveal three million dollars in cash, neatly stacked and organized inside.

Your father rose from his seat with an amused look over his eyes as he picked up a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from it and gave it a wave. “Three million is nothing, this is daily cash. This is the very least of what we’ll all be making a day.”

“That’s all I wanna see, man.” Tony grinned and put his cigar loosely in the corner of his mouth. “I like that.”

“We’ll make a boatload more then.” Your father laughed, tossing the stack in his hand to Tony who immediately caught it midair. “So then you know my answer to both of you is crystal clear today.”

“That is is,” Manny said with a smile. “We’re partners?”

“Without a doubt, we’re partners.” Your father sealed the deal by shaking hands with Tony Montana and Manny Ribera that day three years ago.

Having become official business partners, you knew to yourself back then that this was the first time you’d seen and gotten to know Tony Montana, but it certainly wouldn’t be your last—especially if your own desire could help it.

[ Present Day, 1985, Babylon Club ]

She’s on Fire blasts through the speakers of the Babylon Club, bringing nothing but the familiar sight of sweaty crowds drunk on cocktails and grinding up against one another through dance moves.

Tony and Manny sit in their back, private booth specially reserved for their every visit, smoking a cigar over five hundred dollars worth of 1964, vintage red wine.

Tony remains just as distracted as Manny, now used to the loud blaring music above him as he puffs his cigar and gazes off towards the dancefloor.

Already enjoying the luxury, familiarity, and comfort the Babylon Club has to offer, Tony wouldn’t want to spend the rest of his Friday evening after a full day of business everywhere else—but it’s your presence in the nightclub and only that which Tony gives a shit about.

Tony’s night is coming to an end but only with you, knowing he’s to pick you up tonight and return you to your father’s estate while he’s still away on business in Las Vegas for the time being.

Manny relaxes his muscles against the leather seats of the booth, letting out a relieved sigh and staring at his fingers clasped around his glass of wine. “Man, thought my fingers were gonna fall off today man. Count, count, count…”

“Get used to it.” Tony reverts his gaze to Manny. “You countin’ the big bucks now.”

“We got machines to do that for us, man.” Manny chuckles, sipping his wine. “They count that shit, then you make us count it twice.”

“The boss like his money exact.” Tony’s cigar loosely rests in the corner of his mouth. “And so do I.”

“Yeah?” Manny exhales, swallowing down his wine. “How much we takin’ home tonight, eh?”

“Ten.” Tony inches his wineglass closer to him over the table. “Each.”

“Shiiiiiit,” Manny grins, unable to hide his enthusiasm through his body language. “Damn right, baby. Oh, I could get used to this. Beats washin’ dishes any day for me.”

“Let the world think we still doing that.” Tony takes a long drag of his cigar. “I ain’t hungry anymore.”

“Got a million reasons to make mama proud now.” Manny holds up his wineglass, “and that girl of yours, eh?”

“My girl,” Tony repeats, a little stunned by Manny’s suggestive comment knowing he’s referring to you, but it’s only then that Tony easily discerns you out of the crowd of other girls you dance by.

Sitting upright in his seat, Tony locks eyes with the way your hips sway back and forth to the beat of the music.

Carefree and lost within the music’s rhythm, you dance in a group with others, solely focused on enjoying yourself and unaware Tony’s eyes are on you from afar.

Ignoring the flashy sequin dresses of the girls dancing next to you and with you, Tony keeps his eyes focused only on you—drowning out the rest of his surroundings.

Manny’s already rambling on about buying a new sportscar he’s had his eyes on for the last little while, but as Tony’s greedy eyes wander over your body, all he sees and wants to see is that skin-tight, little black dress hugging every curve of your body.

The mini dress you’re wearing tonight has a lace-up feature on both sides that you’ve tied up to tighten your dress further over your thighs—revealing a sexy peek of skin through the laces with your back entirely exposed from the halter top style dress.

Wearing fishnet socks and finishing off your look for tonight with a pair of shiny black pumps, a surge of arousal hits Tony as he gets a perfect view of you dancing from where he and Manny sit.

Tony knows he’s to be taking you home tonight, but all he wants to do is relax back and watch you dance before him all night; it’s no surprise to Tony yet again how sexy he finds you.

Still ignoring Manny whose under the impression Tony’s actually listening to him, Tony watches you throw your head back in laughter, spinning around in a dance.

Tony’s eyes immediately land on your ass just as his imagination wanders to how he’d approach you on the dancefloor; his cigar in the corner of his mouth as he grinds up against your body in dance and gives your ass a firm squeeze.

From the peek of skin showing through the laced-up sides of your dress, Tony already wants to slip his fingers through and teasingly feel at you.

Tony knows he’d have to fight the urge to pull off the ties and strip you down, but if anything he could do so once you both leave the Babylon together.

After all, both you and Tony know it wouldn’t be the first time he’s stripped you and down and fucked you—especially in the back of Tony’s car when he was far too impatient and horny to bother driving you home or to his place first.

“Ay—” Manny nudges Tony, realizing only a few minutes onto his sportscar ramble that Tony may not even be listening in the first place. “You listening to me, man?”

“Yeah.” Tony clears his throat, still sounding distracted as his eyes haven’t left you.

“Oh yeah?” Manny shifts in his seat, taking a sip of his wine. “Then what I say, man?”

“I don’t know.” Tony mumbles, continuing to watch you dance. “Some bullshit about another car or some shit.”

“Oh man, you ain’t listening at all.” Manny groans out in annoyance. “What—Oh. Ohhhhh, man…” A playful grin spreads over Manny’s lips as he finds just where Tony’s eyes firmly remain—onto you over the dancefloor. “Okay now, I see what you’re up to.”

Tony doesn’t answer Manny, almost ignoring him outright as he lets his eyes continue to wander over the shape of your thighs and ass.

“You keep lookin’ at Celeste like that and she’s gonna see you creepin’ her, man.” Manny nudges Tony again with his elbow.

“Shut up, man.” Tony elbows Manny back. “I’m not creepin’ her. You know we gotta take her home tonight, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Manny taps his fingers against the back of the wine bottle. “And when we gonna do that?”

Tony forces his eyes off of you for the first time in several minutes to glance over at Manny and the wine. “Now. You go get the car, park in the front. I gonna get her then we head out.”

“Alright, alright.” Manny grunts, stretching out his arms. “I’m taking this too, though.” He snatches up the wine bottle.

“You leaving the rest for Celeste.” Manny points a finger at the wine bottle clutched in Manny’s hand. “You drank too much of that shit.”

“I will, I will.” Manny laughs. “I’mma just put it in the car so you won’t forget. All you do is stare at her anyway, man.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’mma go down to her.” Tony puts out his cigar, setting it down over the table before rising out of his seat at the same time as Manny.

Manny steps out of the booth holding the bottle of wine like it’s his firstborn child while he manages to awkwardly get through the sweaty crowds before him.

Tony thinks you haven’t seen him yet or at least you won’t while he’s approaching the dancefloor with just how packed and crowded it is, but you’ve already spotted him from the corner of your eye since he’d been sitting and drinking with Manny earlier on in the evening.

Even with the flashing lights strobing through the dimly light nightclub and the fast rhythm of loud music playing from the overhead speakers, it only takes you another quick glance up to see Tony now making his way towards you.

Without breaking your own dancing pace, you continue to swerve your hips and dance, enjoying yourself with everyone else around you.

Tony’s awkward half shuffle half dance through the crowd causes an amused smile to break over your face as you giggle, already locking eyes with him.

Without a word said to each other, you move from side to side over to Tony and press your back against his chest, teasing him by grinding against his body as you dance.

The surge of arousal Tony’s become all too familiar with in your presence spikes through Tony again, turned on to no avail by the way you dance and how sexy Tony finds your confidence coming off you.

“Is the night ending so soon?” You reach your hand back, caressing Tony’s face behind your shoulder.

“Only if you want it to be.” Tony grins, dancing with you.

You twirl around over your heel, facing him directly. “Mhmm, and when exactly did you get here?”

“Didn’t notice?” Tony raises a brow, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“How could I?” You move in closer to him, running a hand through your hair. “You’ve seen what I’ve been doing all night, haven’t you?”

“I noticed you alright.” Tony’s eyes flicker from your breasts back up to your eyes. “Just like everyone in this room too.”

“They can watch if they want. I don’t care what they think.” You chuckle quietly, pressing your hips up to Tony’s.

“Yeah, I came here ‘bout thirty minutes ago before I saw you dancin’ like this.” Tony gestures to your waist. “Got you a little treat for tonight—you like your red wine, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You hold your arms up, continuing to dance. “If that bottle will last with Manny. Where is he, anyway?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout Manny, baby. He out to get the car.” Tony places both hands over your hips, giving them a light squeeze.

“Baby?” You blush, already feeling a swarm of butterflies beginning to accompany your reaction.

“That’s what you are,” Tony says in your ear over the music, “always been. You like it when I call you that?”

“You know I do.” Your face flushes red as you clutch onto Tony’s shoulders. “You gonna tease me in here all night like that or take me home?”

“Depends.” Tony smirks, “I can keep Manny waiting a while longer, you know. When you dancin’ like this,” he bites his lip, holding himself back from slipping his fingers underneath the lacing detail of your dress, “gonna have me waitin’ all night.”

“Mhmm, I’m not stupid you know.” You let out a laugh, placing your hands over top of Tony’s on your hips. “I’ve seen you looking at me all night, Tony.”

“Good.” Tony’s eyes meet with yours. “I like to look at what’s mine, baby.”

‘Fuck...’ It’s all Tony needs to say to have your arousal matching his in an instant in front of everyone.

You feel Tony’s hand squeezing over your ass harshly. “And like this, why not?” His hands begin to feel the material of your dress. “Look at you—got a nice body, perfect thighs, ass, tits.”

“Yeah? What are you gonna do with it?” You challenge back teasingly.

“What am I gonna do with it?” Tony repeats, raising both of his brows. There’s that playful look shining in his eyes again. “I’mma take you home like I was told to do. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Fine by me.” You smirk, letting Tony guide you away from the dancefloor by your hips. “If Manny’s driving us home, I won’t even be looking at you twice in the car.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Tony grins playfully, moving past crowds with you. “Manny can be a nosy fuck when he wanna be.” You laugh out at Tony’s comment as he continues, “oh yeah, I love the guy to death. He like my brother, but he gonna shove this up both of our asses if he finds out. Better he don’t know nothin’. Not now.”

“Always.” You hold back a giggle as you and Tony finally reach the lobby of the club.

“So my girl gonna pretend she don’t wanna touch me but,” Tony’s eyes dart over yours as he wets his lips, “you get home with me anytime and you act like you haven’t been fucked in a year.”

“Tony!” You whine, nudging him out of reaction to his provocative comment.

“It’s true, don’t lie.” Tony nudges you back with his elbow as you both approach the exit out of the club.

From the very moment you take the first step out and distance yourself from Tony, a moody and irritated “someone-interrupted-my-evening-out-and-is-making-me-go-home” look twists over your expression.

Manny’s already pulled out his convertible in front of the club, resting his arm against the front seat and eagerly looking up at you and Tony; not the least bit surprised as to how annoyed you appear.

“Hey!” Manny takes his other hand off the steering wheel, waving at you both to grab your attention. “How was your night, Celeste?”

“Just fine.” You huff, approaching the back seat. “Ended a little too early though, don’t you think?” You briefly exchange a glance with Tony, knowing, in reality, you want nothing more than for him to take you back home already.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry about that.” Manny smiles back at you sheepishly. “Gotta do as boss says, you know. You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

“You say it to my sister first, now to the boss's girl?” Tony raises a brow at Manny, getting into the passenger seat next to him.

You hold back a smile as Manny lets out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “I got my eyes on one girl, just my Gina.”

“Uh-huh.” Tony rolls his eyes, relaxing in his seat. “Get that straight.”

“No harsh feelings, right Tony?” Manny jokes back.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony brushes him off, hearing you giggle behind him. “Just drive before I rearrange your jaw bones, okay? Okay.”

Manny chuckles, shaking his head as he starts up his car and begins to pull out of the vicinity of the Babylon Club careful to avoid the swarm of taxis and limousines hounding one another for VIP parking spots.

“What ya think, Celeste?” Manny taps his fingers over the steering wheel, driving out onto the street. “You like the car?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes wander over the red, leather seats and detailing. “Yours, huh?”

“Yep, one of them.” Manny proudly claims. “You seen Tony’s new ride?”

“How she gonna see what I didn’t buy, man?” Tony rests his head back against the headrest. “Sportscar is upcoming. I’m getting it customized, not buying that boring factory shit.”

“Of course you are.” Manny points out.

“Another one, Tony?” You raise your brows, unaware he’s beginning to build such a collection for himself.

“Oh yeah.” Tony grins, turning his head back to face you. “Because I can, you know? That’s why. That’s the beauty of all this.” Tony begins to gesture and pat around the interior of Manny’s car. “Boss told me what’s the point of cash if you ain’t gonna spend it like this?”

“I don’t know, man.” Manny lets out a laugh. “Maybe our cars ain’t good enough. You know that Elvira always say she won’t be ‘caught dead’ in our cars.”

Elvira’s name sparks your interest instantly as you sit up in your seat. “Elvira Hancock?”

“Fuck Elvira, man.” Tony spits out, growing irritated almost immediately. “She ain’t like nothing.”

“So the great Tony Montana couldn’t even impress her, huh?” You rest your chin over your fist, amused by Tony’s reaction just by the mention of Elvira’s name.

“Frank wasn’t just balls deep in her pussy. In her mind too.” Tony gestures to the side of his head as Manny snickers. “I ain’t ever impressed that woman. I got the big mansion, but she ain’ like me.”

“Maybe that’s better.” Manny points out. “Never hook up with the boss’ girl, that’s the main rule.”

Hiding your growing smirk behind your hand, you exchange a glance with Tony who winks at you. That’s definitely always been the case between the two of you—without a doubt.

A brief moment of silence follows before Tony slouches back in his seat and clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Boss’ girl. Especially one that don’t wanna be seen with you, right? She say shit like ‘you got off a banana boat, man’.”

Manny can’t help but burst out laughing, gesturing over to you. “At least when we take the boss’ daughter to dinner she doesn’t snort her own supply just to keep a conversation up, huh?”

“Damn.” You mumble in astonishment. “What the hell was up with that?”

“I dunno, man.” Tony throws his hands up in surrender. “I don’t give a shit no more.”

“Elvira really stormed off like they say she did?” You clear your throat.

“Yeah,” Manny replies, no longer making a laughing matter out of it. “She went off to Balti—what was it?”

“Balty-more,” Tony tells him back.

“Balty? Baltimore, oh yeah! Yeah, Baltimore.” Manny repeats.

“She got a new sugar daddy or somethin’, I guess.” Tony scoffs.

“And you two…?” You point your finger at Tony, expecting him to elaborate. “Divorced afterward?”

“What do you think, man?” Tony appears in no mood to answer any questions about it. “First thing she did was throw the papers in my face.”

“Someone sounds rather bitter.” You run a hand through your hair, tousling it.

“Confused.” Tony corrects you. “I give the woman everything and she don’t like it, don’t want it. Oh but you can get this, oh you see me dead in that car, I don’t go in no pools like that, I don’t eat this, I don’t like the wine you buy me. So what? She only want the powder. That’s crazy man. You can’t live like that.”

“Never get high on your own supply,” Manny quietly singsongs Frank Lopez’s advice to himself. “Yeah, man.”

Amused by how quickly both Tony and Manny’s tone has changed throughout the sudden shift of conversation touching Elvira’s name, you’re aware now that the playful, tough guy demeanor off Tony has faded into a serious and mellow, moody attitude.

You never met Elvira Hancock personally and didn’t feel the need to, but you’ve seen her in person in the past with Frank Lopez from your father’s business dealings with him.

Your father—just like Tony—never liked Frank much to begin with, but tolerated him for the sake of business and making money. It was never more than that, mostly unbeknownst to Frank himself, so it was nothing but a relief for your father and his business partners to hear Tony made short work of Frank and his men.

“Couldn’t have done a better job myself. That Tony—I told them, I said ‘don’t fuck with this guy’. Now I can’t say anything to the bastards at all, eh?”

The same reaction was warranted from your father and his men with Sosa’s death, but he was far more impressed with how Tony took down every single one of his men that clearly outnumbered Tony after they breached the Montana estate.

Without Sosa in the way and all of his operations falling into the hands of Tony and your father, there was no longer any heavy competition or talk about a monopoly starting to come onto the drug trade.

As a ‘thank you’ of sorts and a show of gratitude, your father personally paid for all of Tony’s expenses including the damage to his estate and belongings and provided replacements for Tony’s weaponry all out of his own pocket like a gift.

However, the bond between your father and Tony as both friends and business partners wasn’t bought or fueled by fear one may turn on the other. It’s built on trust and loyalty and is all the more exciting to you that your dirty little secret is that you’re fucking Tony on the regular without another soul knowing.

Still, Tony and you couldn’t be farther away from what “fuck buddies” are. Just as Tony has trust and loyalty to your father, he does for you.

Tony’s the only one who knows just what you like behind closed doors—how rough you love taking him in bed and how loud you can beg and whine for his cock.

“What does a woman who already got the whole world at her feet want from a guy like me. Huh?”

“Just your loyalty.”

Tony knew then without doing so much as even flirting with you that he liked you—that he wanted you for himself.

After Sosa’s attempt on exacting revenge on Tony, almost losing Gina to gunfire and seeing the men he shared drinks with and counted cash with shooting at him relentlessly, Tony came out of that situation holding loyalty above all.

With the loyalty and trust you gave to Tony, he could never think of you just as a fling, something to fuck to pass the time let alone a “fuck buddy” and he’s made that clear to you time and time again, one way or another.

Tony knows personally—and perhaps you don’t—but your father would more than likely approve and not mind Tony and you being in a relationship with one another.

Your father sees Tony as a successful man of his word, his equal—not some half-brained goon working for him after all, so who's to say Tony won’t ask for his approval in the very near future?

The rest of the car ride home consists of small talk mostly between Tony and Manny, helping you keep up the “I’m-irritated-my-night-ended-early-thanks-to-Tony” attitude knowing how very curious Manny can be, piecing two and two together if he suspects some sexual chemistry going on between you and Tony.

Driving through the guarded gates after brief security clearance, Manny slows his car to a halt by the front entrance of your father’s estate before parking; still mesmerized by the grand splendor of the manor regardless of how many times Manny comes to visit.

Complete with custom-carved, marble fountains, three swimming pools, a private tennis court, and a garage for fourteen sports cars, the luxurious estate is a sight for sore eyes on its own just from the outside view.

Tony and you are both well aware your father still isn’t home—away on a business trip in Los Angeles for the next few days, and your estate remains heavily guarded.

Manny on the other hand is still under the belief that your father is indeed home and occupied, hence why he requested Manny and Tony to pick you up from the Babylon.

Tony’s mansion isn’t far from yours in terms of size or distance; still in the same enclosed, private and hidden lots of Miami.

From the moment both of you step out of Manny’s car, your security by the front doors recognizes the three of you from afar.

Little glistening lights illuminate the walkway past the floral arrangements in the garden wrapping around the estate and leading up to the front doors.

There’s a peaceful contrasting silence of crickets chirping and a warm summer breeze brushing up against you three from the loud, sweaty, and packed Babylon Club, marking the end of your night and the entrance into some much-needed “relaxation”.

“You gonna see the big boss, Tony?” Manny looks over at both of you.

“Yeah, man.” Tony takes it from him with a nod. “Still got some business to do for tonight. I still got one of my cars parked here, I’mma drive home after.”

“Alright.” Manny accepts the lie, “call me if you need anything, and hey—Celeste—” Manny snaps his finger at you, “you too, you know?”

“For sure.” You chuckle quietly. “Thanks for the drive home, Manny.”

“Heh, no problem.” Manny grins, always boastful of his driving skills in the newest sports cars he can get his hands on. “Oh, and don’t forget this, yeah?” Manny reaches between the cushions of the car seats, pulling out the wine bottle he and Tony shared earlier tonight, and hands it to Tony.

“You put that between the seats, man?” Tony knits his eyebrows in disgust and confusion.

“Yeah, why?” Manny pats the seats as you clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back your giggling. “I kept it nice and safe in case we hit a road bump, you know?”

“You better hope this shit ain’t broken, man.” Tony carefully examines the bottle in his hand before giving an accusing glare to Manny. “That’s five hundred bucks, if it smash in your car I was gonna make you lick it up.”

Manny and you burst out laughing as Tony rolls his eyes, shooing Manny off and dismissing him. “You just go say goodnight to Gina for me. You can’t fuck that up.”

“Yeah man, I will, no worries.” Manny starts up his car again, waving at the two of you. “Goodniiiight! I’mma see both of you tomorrow.”

“Night! Drive carefully!” You wave back as Tony shakes his head, heading straight for the estate instead.

“This guy, man.” Tony looks over his shoulder the minute Manny begins to drive back towards the secured gate, now blasting loud pop music from his car’s radio. “Twenty-four seven party.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t offer to come to see ‘the boss man’ with you.” You smirk, approaching the front doors of the estate with Tony.

“Oh, yeah.” Tony chuckles, “the one in Los Angeles for the next few days. Take it easy, huh baby?” Tony gives your ass a firm smack, grabbing it with one hand and giving the bottle of wine in his other hand a shake. “I gotta make excuses so he, believe me, you know? Not gonna say I’mma walk in here and fuck my girl tonight.”

Your face flushes red with blush as you slip off your heels by the foyer. “Who said anything about fucking?”

“Don’t tease me like that, baby.” Tony licks over his lips, holding up the wine. “I ain’t gonna do so until my girl gets to relax with me tonight.”

“You know I’d love to.” You smile wryly, eyeing the wine in his hand.

“You got more of those guards up there?” Tony’s eyes dart up towards the spiral staircase leading to the second floor.

“Mhmm, just a few.” You clasp off your earrings, looking up at the stairs. “They’re at the end of every hall, not much different from here.”

“Good.” Tony continues staring at the second floor, getting a good look for himself. “Then they won’t be all up hearin’ you in your room.” His gaze directs back down to the wine bottle in his hand.

“What’s wrong with taking it right here?” A playful mood sets through you as you gesture Tony towards the living room.

“Sittin’ thirty feet away from each other in that big ass room?” Tony grins back at you. “What I gotta do to be close to you, baby?”

You let out a small laugh, “we’ve got privacy, of course. I’ll take you upstairs if you really want.”

“You do that then.” Tony follows you from behind as you lead him off towards the staircase.

“Eager much?” You glance over your shoulder at Tony, sliding your hand up the railing.

“Eager?” Tony repeats, knowing damn well what you mean as you come near your bedroom. “Just get in that room—I’mma tell you what eager is.”

“Tony,” you giggle, pushing open your bedroom door and feeling Tony push you in with his hand over your ass.

“Gonna have to wait.” Tony’s quick to kick the door back shut with his ankle and set the wine bottle aside over top of your dresser. “You c’mere.” In an instant, Tony grabs your hips and causes you to squeal out in excitement, pulling your ass against the erection in his dress trousers. “What’s this, huh?”

“Tony,” you groan, feeling his cock brushing up against your ass and feeling almost embarrassed at how quickly he’s got you aroused.

“You see these?” Tony breathes hotly over your neck, tugging on the strings over the side of your dress. “You know, I been wanting to rip these off you since tonight. You lookin’ this sexy—” He gives the strings another pull before slapping your ass again.

“More than welcome to do it now,” you moan back in response. “Push it, already.”

“Push it, huh?” Tony grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him before tilting your chin up roughly to face him. “You tellin’ me to what to do, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you graze your tongue against your bottom lip, “stop pretending like Manny’s still here and push it already.”

“Oh yeah,” Tony roughly grabs your face, giving it a shake. “I’ll fuckin’ push it, baby. I’ll push it.”

You let out a half squeal, half gasp as Tony shoves you onto your bed, prompting you to immediately begin to strip off your skin-tight dress. “You want it that badly and rough, huh?”

“Don’t fuckin’ remind me.” Just as quickly, Tony kneels on top of your bed and hovers over top of you, yanking and pulling at the fabric of your dress to get you undressed as quickly as possible. “You don’t know—” Tony hungrily kisses up your neck, much too impatient and frantic with his movements. “How fucking sexy you are.”

“Tony,” a soft moan escapes your lips as you tilt your head up to let Tony kiss you further; letting your hands wander through his choppy hair. “F-fuck.”

“Want to do this to you—” Tony’s kisses grow more demanding and sloppy as he pulls your dress off your chest and down by your waist. “All fuckin’ night. You know that?”

“Yes, baby. Yes,” you whimper, already feeling your nipples harden from Tony’s fingers brushing up against them and the cool air of your bedroom.

“Fuck this,” Tony throws the dress off your thighs and tosses it to the floor like a rag, shrugging off his own suit jacket next. “Not even wearin’ a bra, huh?”

“Just how you like it,” you tease, squeezing your breasts together.

“Don’t fuckin’ tease me, baby.” Tony grabs your face again with one hand, sharing a wet, full-mouthed kiss with you.

Your eyes flutter shut instantly as you part your lips open to feel Tony’s tongue dominating yours; his kiss is deep, greedy, and almost bruising with power behind it.

It’s not the first time your lips have ached for more after Tony’s kiss, reddened and glistening with his spit.

“S-so much for the wine,” you breathe shakily as Tony breaks the kiss.

Tony unbuckles his leather belt, tossing it over to the pile of his and your clothes upon the bedroom floor. “You know I wouldn’t forget the wine, baby.” Tony gives both of your breasts a firm slap, “I’ll drink it off your fuckin’ tits if I have to.”

“Uh, fuck!” You cry out in pleasure, watching as Tony begins to fully undress before you.

“Get undressed, but keep these on.” Tony pulls at your stockings.

“Mm, yes sir.” Only left in your fishnet stockings and a dainty pair of black, lace panties beneath him, you hook your fingers into the waistband of your panties and slip them off your ankles. “I’ve only got one wineglass in here, you know?”

“That’s gonna be enough, believe me.” Tony’s cock springs free from his briefs before he throws those off as well, pumping his thick eight inches in one hand before momentarily getting off the bed to reach for the wine.

‘Oh fuck. Fuck.’ Deep, tugging arousal builds in the pit of your stomach from the sight of Tony naked before you, let alone the feeling of your pussy having its own heartbeat from seeing his size again like it’s the first time.

Tony’s eyes dart across your room before spotting the single wine glass over your makeup table.

“We’re gonna share a glass together, huh?” You rub down your thighs, beginning to spread open your legs.

“Think I have a much better idea than that, baby.” Tony licks over his lips, watching your pussy lips spread open—dewy from the wetness of your arousal. Tony holds the bottle of red wine in one and the wineglass in the other, keeping his eyes over your naked body and approaching the bed again. “Not gonna make me repeat myself tonight, right baby?”

“Never.” Your breath hitches as you watch Tony kneel down on the bed. “I’ll do anything you want, you know that.”

“I do,” Tony smirks wryly, gesturing to you with the wine bottle. “Get on those hands and knees—ass up, face down, baby.”

You gladly do as Tony demands, arching your back and blushing furiously knowing Tony’s got a perfect view of your ass and pussy from the doggy-style position you’re in.

Keeping your face pressed down onto the pillow in front of you, your eyes peek to the side to see Tony placing the wine glass and the bottle onto your nightstand—redirecting his attention to you now.

“Mmhmm,” Tony cups your ass with both hands, squeezing and touching you.

“Ooh,” you let out a soft whimper, aroused by the feeling of Tony’s cool, gold rings against your skin. “Tony…”

“This ass belongs to me.” Tony gives your ass cheek a harsh slap, taking you by surprise. “Doesn’t it? Huh?”

“Mmm, yes!” You cry out, feeling Tony’s firm hands roughly fondling and squeezing your ass. “Yes, sir—” your words are muffled out from speaking against the pillow.

“This ass,” Tony hooks his fingers into the holes of your fishnet stocks, tearing a hole in them right over your ass and pussy with hardly any effort. “Is mine.” Tony spanks your other ass cheek even harder than he did to the other the first time. “Don’t move, baby.”

“M-mhmm.” You nod shakily against the pillow, keeping your legs spread open and your ass and back arched up in the air.

Tony takes the wineglass off of the end table, spreading your ass with one hand before inching the stem of the glass in-between both of your ass cheeks so it’s tucked in without risk of falling out. “Yeah, look at that…”

Gasping quietly in surprise from feeling the glass being held between your ass cheeks, you look over your shoulder to see Tony giving the wineglass a few more nudges to nestle it between your ass.

“Said we was gonna share the wine.” Tony snatches the bottle of red wine off the end table next, popping the loosely put top off before moving the bottle towards your mouth. “You want a taste, baby? That good, red wine?”

“Mhmm,” nodding, you take a shaky sip of the wine straight from the bottle but only get a little bit to swallow before Tony pulls the bottle back.

“Now we can share. Get a real fuckin’ taste.” Tony begins to not only pour the wine all over your ass and torn fishnet stockings but into the wineglass between your ass as well.

“Yeah, baby. Look at that.” With Tony pouring the glass aimlessly and chuckling to himself as he makes a mess, you shiver from the cold, crimson liquor dripping all down your ass, soaking into your stockings with a majority of the wine landing into the wineglass.

“Tony!” You whine, covered in wine and still looking back at him over your shoulder as Tony lets the empty wine bottle roll onto the other side of the bed.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Keeping the wineglass firmly pressed between your ass, Tony grabs your ass cheeks with both hands again and begins to lick up the wine over your skin.

“Ohhhh,” a moan escapes your mouth as you’re back to keeping your head firmly placed against the pillow. “Fuck, fuck…”

“I got it everywhere…for a reason,” Tony pants, letting his tongue slobber up the wine over your ass and thighs. “Mmm, taste so fuckin’ good. And ya got an ass like that…” Tony smacks both of your ass cheeks, letting more wine drip onto your legs and the bed before he yanks the wineglass out from between your ass.

“Ah!” You giggle breathily, clenching down on the bed sheets with both hands as you glance back over your shoulder again to see Tony taking a messy gulp of the wine before exhaling deeply.

“Come here, slut.” Gritting his teeth, Tony yanks a fistful of your hair back and raises the wine glass to your lips, spilling a bit down your chest before letting you drink up the rest. “Take a sip, huh?”

“I want—” You part open your lips, excited for a taste yourself but end up spilling the majority of it down your breasts.

“Someone’s a little too excited.” Tony chuckles breathily, giving you a rough, full-mouthed kiss over the mouth that could almost bruise you before he lets go of both the empty wine glass in his hand and your hair.

“Tonyyyyy,” you whine, moaning as loud as ever as Tony moves back behind you, now quick to spread your ass cheeks open again before slicking his tongue in between.

“Ohhhhh, my God!” You throw your head back in surprise and moan loudly feeling Tony’s warm, wet tongue circling over your asshole and back down to your pussy.

“Fuck—” Humming against your clit, Tony drools and spits all over both your ass and pussy—licking every inch of you hungrily as if it’s his last meal. “—yes! YES!”

Demanding, rough, and feverish, Tony grips your hips to press your ass onto his face; his own spit dribbling down his chin from eating the hell out of you. “Mm!”

Waves of pleasure soar through you, causing your knees to tingle and feel weak from how Tony’s tongue focuses on flickering over your clit. “M-more, more, please, yes, more!”

You can neither stop yourself from moaning nor continuing to push your hips back against his face—obsessed with how greedy Tony is when it comes to teasing and pleasing you.

With the way Tony keeps a perfect rhythm and pace over your clit, it only takes you a few minutes throughout your filthy moans to feel your toes and fingers clenching from the intense orgasm approaching you.

“Tony! Tony!” You plead out, rolling your eyes back in pleasure. “G-gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

Tony is barely holding himself back while sloppily eating you out. Determined to make you cum over his tongue, Tony’s cock remains rock hard and pulsating—desperate to be inside you so much that it’s almost uncomfortable to him.

Spurts of precum already begin to dribble down Tony’s tip and shaft from hearing you moan and groan about how good Tony’s making you feel again and again.

Obsessed with the way Tony’s tongue licks and suckles over both of your holes, you attempt to keep your moaning quiet by muffling your voice against the pillow, but you can hardly remain still in the doggy-style position while Tony’s tongue is easing its way inside your pussy.

Tony doesn’t relent, beginning to slick his index finger inside of you two—impressed by how wet your pussy has become mixed with his spit.

“Ahhhh, fuck, yes! C-cumming, I’m cumming—” Unable to hold back any longer, your orgasm breaks through and instantly rocks over every inch of your body in erotic ecstasy as Tony continues finger fucking you throughout it.

Before you can even process what just happened or even act out in shock towards it, Tony’s eyes widen in amusement and he grins—keeping his head angled under your pussy as you squirt over his chin and neck in orgasm.

“That’s fuckin’ perfect, baby.” Tony smacks your pussy with the palm of his hand, giving your pussy lips a shake to get more of your squirt and cum out while swallowing everything in his mouth and on his lips.

“T-Tony, Tony,” struggling to keep your back arched with the energy drained out of you from such an intense, heavenly orgasm, you squeal again to feel Tony dipping two fingers inside of your pussy, getting a string of your cum between them.

“Taste, baby.” Tony grips your neck, pulling you back before smearing your cum over your lips and then easing his fingers inside your mouth. “See how fuckin’ good you taste. Squirt in my mouth like that.”

“Oh fuck—” You let out another moan as Tony roughly grips your throat and forces you to flip over.

“Spread yourself open.” Pinning your back down onto the bed, Tony grabs both of your ankles and stretches them back towards your shoulders. “Yeah baby, like that.”

Clutching onto your ankles and holding them up by your head in as much as you can stretch and spread yourself wide open for Tony, your face flushes red in humiliation and arousal. “Please…”

“Yeah,” Tony chuckles breathily, spreading your pussy lips open with both hands. “Look at that pussy, huh?” Tony rolls his tongue in his mouth before letting a wad of spit land over your clit.

You gasp out softly in surprise, watching as Tony rubs his spit in with the palm of his hand all over the wet folds of your pussy, and with his free hand, he pumps all thick, eight inches of his cock.

“Give me,” you whine, inhaling sharply as Tony doesn’t waste time teasing you further and slicks his cock over the folds of your pussy.

“Not gonna have to ask me twice,” Tony grunts, obsessed with how warm and wet your pussy feels against his shaft. “Fuck…”

The oversensitivity on your clit from your first orgasm causes you to squirm underneath Tony, whining quietly and feeling as if you’re about to sink into the bed from embarrassment at the way Tony looks pleased down at your pussy.

“You’re a tiger,” Tony breathes, positioning his cock to your entrance. “You know that?”

The impressive length of his cock alone causes the butterflies swarming in your stomach to knot up in excitement, wanting Tony to push every single inch of him inside you until you’re filled to the brim with his cock and begging for more.

Giggling out of breath, you feel Tony’s precum dripping over your entrance hole, easily mixing in with your wetness.

Tony positions his hips as if he’s about to thrust in, but purposefully delays to tease you. Instead, Tony’s hands trail up to your breasts, giving them a squeeze with both hands.

“Gonna get you even more wet for me, baby.” Tony lets his fingers toy over your hardened, sensitive nipples—rubbing them between his forefingers and hearing you moan back in response.

Tony leans his head down to kiss both of your nipples sloppily, causing you to whimper and tug on his hair.

Now more than ever, you can’t stop yourself from fantasizing about bouncing over Tony’s cock—wanting him badly as ever through all of this teasing.

Obsessed with the feeling of Tony’s firm, large hands gripping over the sides of your throat, your hot skin feels cool relief from the gold rings over Tony’s finger and his silver chain bracelet as he begins to apply pressure.

“Got ya, baby.” Tony now has you right where he wants you and how he wants you—fully under his dominance and control, spread open and ready to be mercilessly fucked all night.

Breathing heavily and locking eyes with Tony, you’ve absolutely no desire to fight back or resist. All your mind tells you is how desperately you want to get fucking railed by this man as hard as he wants to take you for however long he wants to pound your pussy.

“You’re mine, ain’t that right, baby?” Tony gives your face a smack, demanding a quick answer. “Ain’t that right?”

“Y-yes, Tonyyyyyy—ohhh!” You cry out in pleasure as you feel Tony’s cock entering your pussy, one thick inch at a time to fill you in.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes.” Tony hisses under his breath, watching his cock penetrate you. “You like that baby, huh? That big cock going inside that tight pussy?”

All you can let out are filthy moans in response; your momentary shyness with Tony is replaced by a burst of sexual confidence.

“Ooh,” Tony grunts as he stretches and fills your pussy completely. “Keep those nice legs up for me, baby.”

“Uhhhh,” groaning loudly, you feel a slight burning sensation from Tony’s thickness inside of you before it's replaced by nothing but pure pleasure; his cock beginning to thrust back and forth. “F-fuck me, Tony. Fuck me!”

“You’ll let me do anything I want?” Tony pants, clutching onto your inner thighs and picking up his pace fucking you. “Huh?”

“A-anything you want,” you nod frantically with a moan. “God, your cock feels so good.”

“That’s what I like to hear, baby.” Tony plants a full-mouthed, sloppy kiss over your mouth as he continues thrusting deeply and roughly.

You roll your eyes back in pleasure, feeling the room get ten degrees hotter to you from how Tony angles his cock downward to hit your weak spots as he fucks you.

As Tony begins to suckle and kiss your neck roughly, you pick up on the scent of his expensive cologne mixing with the smell of sex in the room.

Tony’s cock twitches in your body, pulsating with so much arousal that all he wants to do is pound you mercilessly all night; your body has never cried out this desperately for him to fuck you.

Tony gives one of your breasts a slap, watching them jiggle in front of him. “I m-make you feel good, huh?” An aggressive, demanding Tony is more than welcome fucking every one of his desires into you on your bed.

“Yes!” You whine, shakily watching his cock slick into your pussy with ease.

“You take my cock in like a slut, you know that?” Tony speeds up, even more, his cock now rapidly slamming in and out of you with no intention to ever slow back down.

“Fuck!” You pant as you feel Tony’s lips pulling over the skin on your neck, leaving a reddened hickie and only heightening your pleasure.

Just from the way Tony’s body is pressed up to yours as he fucks you and the sight of Tony’s hips gyrating to yours sparks a fire of sexual frustration and desire into you like none other.

‘He knows exactly where to touch me, to make me like this…’

As Tony’s kisses trail upward, growing sloppier until he’s practically licking up your neck and to your jawline, you both join in another needy kiss with tongue.

You can feel Tony’s tongue battling for dominance over yours, suckling over it any chance he gets and meeting your moans into his mouth for a response.

“Your father—” Tony parts from the kiss as a string of spit from both of your mouths splits. “—doesn’t know I’m fucking his daughter like this huh?”

As you whimper and whine about from sensation after sensation, Tony keeps both of his firm hands pressed onto your hips and lets you eagerly take his cock in again and again with little to no effort on his part.

Now with a hand going up to grip your throat again, Tony leans down to your ear and fully angles his thrusting downward to reach your G-spot.

“I want you so much, baby,” Tony breathes hotly over your neck. “Fuck…” The pressure he keeps down onto your hip subsides as Tony’s fingers now move down to play with your soaked clit at a quickened pace.

You let out a raspy moan and buck your hips up in response to the sudden, almost about to scream out from how good it feels to have Tony’s fingers rubbing quickly over your clit.

The expression on your face twists to pure delirium as your orgasm approaches you steadily.

All you can hear is Tony breathing down against your lips saying, “I’m making you my little whore.”

“Tony, oh fuck!” Your legs begin to quiver up above your sides and you begin to struggle to maintain a hold on your ankles.

Each moan you give out is louder than the last, but it’s a surprise when Tony suddenly slicks his cock out of your pussy and taps it roughly over your reddened, throbbing clit.

“Don’t wanna make you cum just yet, huh?” Tony gives your face another slap—not enough to sting or leave a mark but enough for some pain knowing how much you love it.

His tongue hungrily grazes over your top and bottom lips before his hands squeeze over yours on your ankles, insisting you keep yourself spread in this position.

Your clit is almost swollen with arousal, begging to be touched and stimulated so much that your orgasm is desperate to be released even as Tony just teases you.

“Oooh, baby, music to my ears.” Tony chuckles breathily, letting his cock soaked in your juices slide over your clit once more just to hear the sloshing sound of the folds of your pussy parting.

Tony doesn’t waste any more time in teasing you—knowing you’re about to cum and if anything, you’ll do so on his cock only.

Tony jerks his hips down and roughly thrusts into you without warning, making you scream from how good his cock feels filling you up all over again.

“You’re mine,” Tony growls in a low voice, “mine.”

Tony exhales shakily, gritting his teeth as he presses his hips in further, completely filling you to the brim with his cock stretching open your tightness.

“Ohhhh, I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum!” You squeal, arching your hips to Tony’s. “Oh, God!” It takes every bit of willpower in you not to scream out again and again from the euphoric sensations Tony draws out of you.

Tony forces his own orgasm back, refusing to cum in you just yet but the way your pussy clenches and contracts around his cock tempts him to do otherwise.

Tony coaxes your orgasm out of you first; the sight of him now with beads of sweat over his forehead sticking to his hair as he’s fixated on fucking you until you cum is more than enough to have you give in.

There’s an insatiable lust and craving you and Tony have for one another that releases through your second orgasm as you cum over his cock—shrieking out through your moans. “Yesssss!”

“I wanna fuck you—” Tony squeezes your thighs so harshly he digs his fingernails into your skin before slapping them as hard as he can. “—all the fuckin’ time.”

Your mascara and eyeliner smear off your eyes and drip onto your cheeks from tearing up—it’s not due to pain or being overwhelmed, but from how good you’re being fucked and how intense your orgasm spilling out of you is.

Tony never slows his pace, obsessed with feeling your pussy still humming around his cock from the aftermath of your orgasm. “You fuck so good, baby.”

With Tony fucking the ever-living life out of you by the second, you desperately beg and whine for him to touch you over and over again—slapping and smacking your breasts, pussy, and thighs.

Tony continues pounding into your soaked pussy like a wild animal, growing far more aggressive knowing how badly you like it rough with him.

Barely able to form out a coherent sentence, your trembling hands threaten to loosen from holding up your ankles, and the soreness your legs feel from being spread open for so long even adds to your pleasure.

“Fuck!” Tony pounds into you, causing the springs in your mattress to squeak from fucking you like a ragdoll.

Tony’s more than well aware of how you roll your hips back at him weakly, still desperate for each and every thrust inside of you.

Tony grins down at your pussy lazily, loving the way your creamy cum drips off his cock while he continues to pummel inside of you. “T-tight fucking pussy.”

You curl your toes in response, using the last bit of energy inside of you to clutch onto your ankles as your third orgasm begins to build in your pelvis.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” Tony squeezes your face, forcing you to face him directly.

Doing as he says, your eyes widen as Tony spits in your mouth. You swallow instantly, giggling breathily. “Y-yes!”

“Good girl,” Tony praises you, caressing the side of your cheek.

Your third orgasm building inside of you now is growing increasingly insistent and almost pleasurably painful.

This time as Tony can tell you’re about to cum, he has no plans on drawing it out of you for long so he can take you by surprise again.

“Fuck, oh my God!” The tip of Tony’s cock hits your G-Spot and causes you to moan out so loud your hands let go of your ankles as your climax unwinds.

This time your orgasm hits you from all sides, unraveling in your gut and squirting over Tony’s cock and lower waist uncontrollably.

“Mm!” Tony keeps your body firmly pinned to the bed, edging his own orgasm for as long as he can through yours.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve squirted over Tony’s cock and with the way a final whine escapes your lips as Tony shoots his cum deep inside of your pussy, you revel in the sensation of feeling spurt after hot spurt of his seed in you.

Tony jerks his head back, letting out the loudest, deep moan you’ve heard from him as his cock twitches inside of you. “Yeah, baby—that’s it.”

Over a dozen spurts of thick cum inside of you later, a devilish smirk crosses Tony’s lips as he pops his cock out of you like nothing happened.

“Oh!” You whimper, quick to clutch onto your lower pelvis from the sudden feeling of fullness coming out of you.

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Look at that.” Tony spreads open your pussy lips, watching eagerly as a loud of his cum oozes out of you.

“Tony,” you lick over your lips weakly. “G-gonna get me pregnant?”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about baby names all night,” he grins before giving you a wet kiss.

“You and me both,” you giggle weakly, clutching onto his shoulders. “Surely you’re not done with me.”

“You know how I fuck you well then.” Tony pulls your hair to move you off the bed. “I ain’t gonna be finished with you all night, baby. See this?” He pumps his still-hard cock, “gonna fuckin’ suck on it, aren’t you?”

“Mm, yes, I will.” You grin up at Tony as he practically drags you down to your knees off the bed.

“Fucking suck and don’t make me wait.” Tony taps the tip of his cum covered cock over your lips. “I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, baby.”

You eagerly attempt to catch Tony’s cock in your mouth without using your hands and instantly surprise Tony with how you push your head in to take him into your throat.

“You’re gonna choke on my cum down that throat,” Tony keeps a steady hand over the back of your head to guide you on his cock.

As you sloppily begin to suck over Tony’s shaft, he bucks his hips forwards in response and moans. “Fuck, just like that.”

The sight of your head bobbing back and forth over Tony’s cock like a hungry whore is one he’d gladly want to see night after night if he could help it.

Tony can’t hold back his own moans, letting his hands roam through your hair and pull back the loose, messy strands from your face.

It’s only after then that he begins to thrust into your mouth to make you take more of his cock deeper down your throat, gritting his teeth. “Choke on it—dirty fucking whore.”

Insistently face fucking you, you gargle and gag over Tony’s cock as you slobber over it in a messy blowjob.

You clasp your hands around Tony’s girth, pumping his cock and giving him a handjob while you suck him off as fast as you can take him in and out of your mouth again.

Tony’s eyes remain half opened, his lips parted to let out low groans as he feels his second orgasm steadily approaching with your wet, warm mouth wrapped around his throbbing cock.

“You like having your mouth used, don’t you?” Tony watches as you drool all over his shaft, letting your spit drip off of him in wads before it lands on the floor.

Sucking, slurping, jerking him off—it’s Tony’s hips beginning to twitch while he thrusts into your mouth that signals he’s about to hit the peak of his next orgasm.

Looking up at Tony with an innocent gaze in your eyes, you keep eye contact with him and moan against his cock; just as equally flustered and sweaty as Tony.

More of your spit trickles down Tony’s cock and sticks to his pubic hair—this time with no chance for Tony to edge himself into another intense orgasm he already knows is coming.

Without warning or showing he’s right about to cum, Tony cums in your mouth—surprising you, but only lets two spurts of cum down your throat before he pulls his cock right out of your mouth. “Fuck, yes!”

“See that?” Gasping out for air and swallowing down the cum in your mouth, Tony yanks your hair downward and lets the next six spurts of his hot cum land all over your face. “Yeah, baby. That’s right… No other man gonna do this to you like me.”

“Mm,” you lick off any cum near your mouth and chin, trying to catch some on your tongue as Tony finishes. “A-anytime, baby.”

“You know what that makes you?” Tony grunts, trailing cum off your cheeks with his thumb and back into your mouth.

“M-mhmm?” You suck on Tony’s thumb, licking off the cum and looking into his eyes.

“Mine,” Tony gives your face a playful slap, smirking. “Mine, baby, mine.”

With that, Tony pulls his finger out of your mouth, licking off your spit from it before roughly cupping your face with both hands and kissing you right down on the mouth.

Tony knows now he’s going to pin you up against the wall next and fuck you until both of you can’t take anymore or the sun begins to rise—whichever one comes first. Your heavily anticipated fuck session with Mr. Montana has yet to come to an end for tonight.

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