#miami tank top

[redundantz]

Meryl Outfit ideas---

I feel like they will give her a whole new outfit in season 2 but if they base it off the one we seen maybe something like this would be nice.

[cooyahclothing]

Welcome to the Reggae Republic.  

Shop tank tops and tees at cooyah.com

Model: @ii-kaya-ises Photographer:  Total Illustion Imagery MUA: Tropical Beauty Collection

[aceyanaheim]

Tryin to find something to wear that mom wont comment but isnt too bad for hot weather but i feel comfortable is gahhh

[dineshartshop]

(via "BACK MIAMI DOLPHIN GETTING CHILL" Classic T-Shirt for Sale by DineshArtShop)

[womenofwrestlingfashion]

Maxxine wears the Sleeveless Plunge Racerback Tank Cropped Top in Red (Sold on Amazon - $25.99) and White Miami Heat 2022/23 City Edition Swingman Shorts from Nike ($89.99)

[toddbarrowcountry]

Looking for good feel music. This album is filled with epic sounds of country. Play it while cleaning the house, at work or driving in your car!

[angelicblondie]

boydguard!rafe x popstar!reader (MDNI)

note: I made the reader blonde bc i really wanted her to kind of encapsulate sabrina carpenter, so if you'd like, ignore that and imagine her however you'd like!

warning: unprotected sex (pls dont do this lol)

ok, fine. you had a crush on your bodyguard.

rookie mistake, but who could blame you?

you hired rafe about a year and a half ago, after you started to gain a ton of popularity and recognition. your music had blown up, prompting and influx of new fans, and new attention. you had started to get recognized almost everywhere you went, and when your management company recommended looking into getting a bodyguard, you weren't opposed.

at first, the two of you didn't talk much - he was an intimidating guy, he was generally pretty quiet and constantly wore a serious expression, and although you considered yourself outgoing, you still found yourself a bit nervous around him (not to mention, he was seriously hot).

but after spending much more time with him, you began to crack open the walls of his harsh exterior, and began to get to the know the man behind the suit.

he was actually really kind, and although his resolve with strictly professional, he turned out to be one of the people you trusted most, which made you feel all the more secure that he was the one who held your protection in the palm of his hand.

although there was still so much you have yet to discover about him, you considered him a friend at the very least, even if he might not have considered you one back.

not to mention, your big fat crush on him.

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you've reached the point in tour where the days blend together, and so do the nights. you've lost track of how many shows you've done, and how many you have left. but you wouldn't change a second of it, despite your exhaustion and the homesickness that pools in your chest.

you've reached the miami shows, which were around the halfway point for the american leg of your tour. you had arrived at your hotel last night, which you will reside in for the next couple of days.

you awoke alone in your king size bed, the sun shining through the sheer curtains. you groaned as you stretched, the sheets slipping form you skin and pooling at your hips as your arms reached above your head.

you rubbed your eyes as you walked over to the bathroom, turning the water hot in the shower as steam filled the room. you let the water cascade down your body, smoothing down the goosbumps that prickled your skin from the cold room. you spent a while there, enjoying the peace and quiet of the early morning.

after that you got dressed into a simple jeans and a tank top, throwing a hoodie over in hopes of inconspicuity. you grab you handbag before leaving your room, making your way over to rafes to knock on his door. rafe doesn't take long before opening it, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, looking down at you.

he checks the watch on his wrist. "coffee time?" he asks.

"mhm," you nod whilst humming.

this has become a sort of tradition on show days - rafe takes you to the nearest coffee shop and the two of you sit down, going over the schedule of the day whilst you pry him for details of his life - it was a good dynamic.

after ordering you coffee, you and rafe found a table in the corner of the cafe, avoiding being recognised. you had black, thin oval sunglasses coverering your eyes, sipping you vanila iced coffee leisurly and rafe gave you the usual laydown. given the sunglasses covered your eyes, you took the oppurtunity to run them over his features, taking in the way his brows scrunched as he read the schedule off his phone, the bite he pursed his lips when scrolling to the next section, the way he ran a hand through his hair as he sighed and layed back into his seat - you saw it all.

ok, so what, you admired his appearance - so did everyone, he was a hot guy! the first time you really took notice of it was when you were scrolling on tiktok about 8 months ago, coming across a sideshow of photos of him and you, the comments thirsting over him and speculating about our relationship.

you couldn't look him in the eye that whole day.

you even embarrassingly wrote a song or two about him, one of them even making it in your album- not that he knew of it, but it was embarrassing for you.

it wasnt a crazy love song or anything, the title was "xo", and the precipece was really just admiring how hot he was and how much you wish you coud have him. so yeah, you get a little shy sometime preforming it, knowing he was backstage watching.

after rafe finished talking you placed your chin in your palm, leaning your elbow on the table.

"when did you get your first girlfriend?" you ask innocently, your influx of questions beginning.

rafe sighed like he always did, but he expected it. "9th grade. kylie newman. pretty brunnete." he respons montonously.

you frowned. you were a blonde.

"why'd you breakup?" you ask, swirling the straw in your drink.

rafe sighed. "think i dumped her to focus on basketball or some shit."

you snorted. "classic."

the corner of rafes lips tilted up in an amused smirk, as he scoffed and looked away, scanning the premises of the cafe. as if he was gonna find any danger here, you thought to yourself with an internal scoff.

rafe could pretend he didn't enjoy your company all he wanted, but you knew the truth. he found you amusing, and you would go even as far to say that he cared about you quite a bit, no matter how much of that he hides. he cares about your safety, and not just because its his job. you could just tell. you enjoyed your banter with him, no matter how much he pretended it was one sided and tried to stay strictly professional.

you continue your questions. "why'd you and your last girlfriend break up?"

he turned his attention back to you, leaned back with his arms cross over his chest. you eyes ran over his low visible torso, and you were starting to think that you eyesight wasn't as concealed as you initially thought, because he wore a little smirk on his face.

"cause a'you," he repplied bluntly, watching as your brows furrowed in confusion.

"ok, explain," you demand.

he chuckled. "nah, it actually had nothin' to do with you, really just this job. she wasn't willing to make long distance work," he said casually, as if it didn't bother him.

you frowned, having no idea he was dating someone right before taking this job. you felt a little guilty, even though you were secretly glad he was still single.

"im sorry," your murmur, sipping a bit of your coffee.

he shrugged. "not a big deal, it was a while ago now."

you nod, turning your head to take in the environment around you. you sigh.

"dont get me wrong, i love touring, but i'm exhausted." you say.

rafe nodded. "yeah, i can tell."

you roll your eyes. "how kind," you say sarcastically, but a little smile brightens up your features.

rafe chuckles. "didnt mean it like that, just meant i can tell since i know you."

you felt your heart flutter a bit as you held back a flirty comment, knowing he would ice you out if you said it. you had tried to be flirty with him in the past, but he didnt exactly tolerate it, taking a very professional approach to your relationship. that being said, you knew that you and him were closer than any other celebrity and her bodyguard - i mean, you could just ask any of your star-studded friends, they barely talked to their bodyguards.

you decided to play it cool and lean forward a bit more. "you dont know everything."

ok, maybe that was still a bit too flirty. you couldnt help it!

rafe raised his brows with a slight upwards tilt of his lips. "i know enough."

was he flirting back?

you bite your lip a bit and giggle, lifting you sunglasses above your head. "are you gonna come to the after-show ?" you ask, changing the subject, wondering if you could convince him since hes seemingly in a good mood.

since you were giving two concerts in miami, you did what you did at the end of every residency - you hosted an after-show. the after-show was really just the time after a concert where you and your team all got together in your hangout area at the venue and celebrated the show. rafe didnt usually come, instead standing outside the door on lookout.

rafe rolled his eyes. "your trying to get me in trouble." he stated, looking at you knowingly

your face twist in faux offense. "what!? i would never! you clearly dont know me as well as you think," you scoff dramatically.

rafe chuckled. "i'll think about it."

he'll think about it.

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you spent the rest of morning chilling, then rafe took you to the venue mid afternoon. he stood outside of your dressing room as you got changed, then you "forced" (as he said it) him to come inside as they did you hair and makeup.

you loved your show outfits, all consisting of short unitard dresses with sparkles and glitter, being the perfect mix of cute and sexy. the always did you hair with a slight wave and tons of volume, making it easy to toss during performances. you makeup was glowly and flawless, and you always felt like such a doll when you got all done up like this.

you wore chunky heels as well, which were a struggle to walk in at first but soon became easier as you got used to it. rafe sat on the couch as you talked casualy to him, the hair and makeup people smiling in amusement at his short responses, and your apparent unbothered state. your team at some point had entered the room, sitting around the couch as they made sure everything was prepared for the show. after the hair and makeup people finnished, they left, causing you to stand up from your seat.

you sighed, flopping next to rafe on the couch as he sighed, throwing his phone to the side and reaching behind your neck to un-squish your hair between your head and the couch, instead moving it so flowed off the end. you had told him a while ago that this was important so it didnt flatten, and you were honestly a little supprised.

your assistant snickered, knowing of your intrest in the bodyguard and you sent her an unserious glare. you sighed and leaned your head further back, closing your eyes as you focussed on breathing - an exersise that became a staple before shows. you brought your hand in front of rafe, and he wordlessly grabbed it, cracking your knuckles for you. that was also part of the tradition.

later on, when there was about 30 minutes before the show, you and your assistant emma were chilling in the hallways, sitting on the floor.

"so, hows rafe?" she asked with a little smirk. you nudged her. "shut up," you say, but a smile adjourned you features.

"c'mon, your telling me nothings happened yet?" she asked, her voice comming to a whisper.

you look around before answering. "its not like i havent tried," you huff, "hes just is so professional. hes set on the job, which as his employer, is great, but as the girl who wants him..." your trail off, biting your lip, "isnt great. and hes probably right, it'd be an awful idea to try anything." you justify.

emmas face is thoughtful. "yeah, i mean, your not wrong, but its bound to happen. your obviously both attracted to each other, so something is obviously going to happen."

you nod, but felt a bit of worry fester in your chest. you were worried he'd only want you for your body, not you yourself, which was something that you were so used to - you didnt want to put yourself through that again.

not too long later, you were under the stage, getting ready to be risen up to the crowd. holding you bedazzled mic, you get your classic pep talk from your manage kelly and nodded along, seeing rafe standing afar with his arms crossed over his chest in your periphery.

so when it was time for the show to start, you sent him a wink as you turned around, being lifted on to the stage as the screams become louder.

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after the show, your drenched in sweat, you hair is much flatter than before, and your filled with adrenaline still.

you receive the praise thrown your way by pretty much everyone backstage graciously with a big smile, still breathing hard and your heart has yet to slow down. once finally reaching your dressing room, you collapse on the couch.

you hear a knock on the door, and you yell out for the person to come in as you lift yourself up, and see rafe enter, closing the door behind him.

he tosses you a plastic water bottle. "good show," he compliments casually, causing you to beam.

"thanks. yeah it felt pretty good out there, energy was high, huh?" you reply, taking a long sip of the water.

he nodded, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "mhm," he hummed, leaning his elbows on his thighs, "i specifically like that song you played in the middle of the set...blankin' on the name."

you hold back a blush, knowing he was talking about xo (aka, the song about him). you act nonchalant, crossing a leg over the other. "xo?" you ask.

his lips tilt up. "thats the one."

you hum, nodding a bit before looking away to avoid eye contact, getting a bit bashful. then you remember you conversation with emma before, and a sudden burst of confidence ran through you. you turn back to face him, playing with the hem of your short dress. "what about that one do you like?" you ask a bit boldly.

rafe blinked. "the dance is fun." he replies after a beat.

your body feels hot. the dance is a bit suggestive, much like the song, consisting of your hands running down your body and sinking low to the ground. he wasnt the only one who liked that dance, you had seen a lot of conversation about it online.

you hum. "what about it?" you ask, your voice light yet a bit suggestive. he raises his brows a bit at your question and you shrug casually. "for reasearch purpouses, of course."

he breaths out a chuckle, placing his hands behind him to lean back.

"the part during the chorus," he replies.

"yeah?"

"yeah, s'cute."

you scoff. "cute?" you giggle, sitting up a bit. "thats not exactly the intention." you state, biting your lip a little.

you were being obvious, you knew that. you could blame it on the post-show high, but you knew that wasnt why.

you were frustrated pretending that you didnt want him every single day. you were frustrated that he had continuously turned down your subtle advances, and pretended he didnt want you too. you saw the way he looked at you, the way he looked you up and down in your stage outfits when he thought you werent looking - you knew he was at least attracted to you.

he poked his tongue into his cheek. "careful, kid," he warned.

you tilt your head, gazing at him with faux innocence. "what?"

he shooks his head, breathing out a laugh. "swear your tryna' get me in trouble," he said, the air around you two beginning to feel thicker.

"trouble?" you ask, still playing the part. "i was just askin' what you liked bout' my show. why dont you tell me more? i've been waiting for some honest feedback."

rafe clenched his jaw a bit, sitting up straighter. "i think you look a bit desperate in the opening."

you raise you brows. "s'that so?"

"mhm. every guy in the audiences jaw was on the floor."

you tilt your head. "thats the whole point," you subtly tease.

you lean back, bringing you feet up to rest in his lap. he looks down at your shoes for a bit before looking back inquisitively at you. you giggle. "tell me more, rafe. im curious on your thoughts."

rafe shook his head with a somewhat defeated look. "you know my thoughts."

you perk up, swinging you feet off his lap to stand up right in front of him. "i do?" you ask, a flirtatious smile on your face.

he looked up at you, his jaw tight and expression grave. "enough, kid."

although usually you would be discouraged, maybe even a little embaressed, tonight you werent.

"not until you tell me your thoughts." you say stubornley.

he sighed, rubbing his jaw in frusturation. "what do you wanna know?"

you bite your lip, a subtle smile still on you face as your eyes glazed over with flirtation.

"how long have you known that xo was about you?" you ask after a moment, feeling as bold as ever.

rafe seemed suprised by my question, essentially outing myself. he pursed his lips. "long time, kid," he said, his lips forming in a subtle smirk.

you bite the inside of your cheek. "how come you havent said anything?"

"stop kid, you know why."

"cause you dont want any trouble? 'cause its not allowed? cause your just tryna do your job?" you answer boredly.

rafe nods. "mhm, exactly."

you take a step towards him, but rafe grabs your hips, stopping you from getting closer. he looks up at you with a dangerous expression, but instead of tell you to back off, he says, "what havent you said anything?"

your taken aback by the question being turned on you, but you dont falter. "cause of this," you say, looking down and refrencing his hands stopping you.

rafe looks too, but doesnt remove his hands, instead squeezing tighter. "yeah, well, this, is for a reason, kid."

you bite your lip. "ya know, im blankin on that reason right about now. how bout you?" you ask, you voice quiet as you felt the tenion between you two thickening by the minute.

your hands come down to his shoulder, smoothing over his suit jacket, squeezing his bicepts to feel the muscles underneath. your eye sigh follows your movments, his watching your face.

he takes a long breath, squeezing you waist harder. "princess..." he grumbles.

"stop me," you say, looking back at him, your voice quiet. "if you dont want this, tell me stop and i'll never bring it up again." your eyes held a bit of vulnerabilty, but were overpowered by the lust and desire you felt for him.

rafe almost looked pained - you knew you were putting him in a tough position, and it was a bit unfair, but you couldnt think of any other option. you knew you both wanted eachother, the only undecided factor was if you were going to act on it.

for a long moment he said nothing, and silence engulfed the two of you. after a while, his hands slid down to your hips, and his lips quirked up. "no one has to know, right?"

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before you knew it, rafe was stood up, towering over you as he held you face in his hands, kissing you roughly. you reciprocated his fierceness, moving to slide his suit jacket off his shoulders, revealing him in a long sleeved, white button up shirt. whilst his hands slide down to grab your waist, your hands slide up the back of his neck, running yours fingers up his short buzzed hair, pulling him closer to you.

he turns the two of you around before blindly sitting on the couch, bringing you down to straddle his waist. he lets out a pleasure filled hum before disconnecting your lips.

"is anyone gonna come looking for you?" he pants against your lips.

you quickly shake your head. "no, told them i'll be awhile."

he nods. "good," he says, as he leans back in, instantly resuming where you left off.

soon enough his shirt was off, and you were only left in your bra and panties. you got to your knees , smiling wickedly up at him, swaying side to side on your knees to adjust into a comfortable kneeling position. you hand hovered over his bed, toying with the buckle.

"can i?" you ask breathlessly, you voice filled with wanton need.

rafe nods, eyes filled with desire. "all yours."

you swallow at his words as you look down to undo his belt, tossing it to the side as you unzip his pants, sliding both it and his boxers down to his ankles.

you uncontrollably gasp, taking in his size as as your hands hover around his hard length. you look back up at him, batting your lashes up at him. "your so big, rafey."

he groans gutturaly, throwing his head back. "shit, princess. no idea how long i've been waiting for this." he says, letting out a breathy chuckle.

you bite your lip to conceal the wide smile fighting to break out, and instead push youself higher on your knees, bending over to hover you lips over his dick, spitting a string of saliva over his tip.

he sucks in a breath. "shiiiiiit. y'tryna kill me?"

you smile up at him, moving your perfectly manicure hand to begin to stroke up and down his cock. moving slowly st first. he looked down at the action, transfixed by the sight he had imagined so many times before.

you brought your pink lips down to him, smiling sweetly as you gently kissed his tip, watching as his stomach clenched and he held back a moan.

your wraps your plump lips around him, sucking up to move you lips arounds the sides of his dick, kissing up and around him. you stuck you tongue out to lick a long stripe from his base to this tip, wrapping back around his to suck.

you bobbed your head up and down, hollowing you cheeks so he could feel as much of you as possible. you didnt go for too long though, becuase not long after you started, rafe lifted you up from the ground and laid you across him, you upper body laying on the couch as your hips laid on his lap, ass perched in the air.

you gasp at the change of pace, trying to pull yourself up on your elbows to look back at him but you feel his strong hand pushing you back down.

"shh, just gonna getcha' ready f'me, s'that ok?" he asks, rubbing his hands across my lower back and down the curve of my ass. you nod eagerly, whining out a "yes" as he slides your panties aside, and slides his middle finger between my folds. you suck in a breath, arching your back up, pushing yourself closer to his finger.

rafe tsks, swatting your ass lightly, causing you to jump. "ah, none of that," he scolds lightly, rubbing the inflamed skin. "sorry," you murrmur softly, and he returns his finger between your folds. hes rubs arounds, collecting your wetness before pushing his finger in, earing a sharp gasp from you. he chuckles under his breaht. "fuck, didnt think you'd be this tight, holy shit."

you whine as he curls his digit, hitting that sweet spot perfectly. he moves in and out, your walls squeezing around him as he adds another finger. he curls both his digits now, moving them in and out of you, causing you to squirm.

he soon pulls your panties down, pulling you back up as you hurriedly unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room. you straddle him and in a rush, you grab his base and align your entrance with his tip, but before slipping down he grabs yours hips.

"fuck, no condom?" he asks breathlessly.

your face drops. "shit, i dont have any." you bite your lip. "im on birth control," you inform, honestly not really minding no protection, even if it wasnt prefered.

rafe cursed under his breath. "fuck, ok, thats fine. i'll pull out."

he pushes you down on his dick, and your lips form a wide "o". your walls constircted tight around him, your hands pushing down on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself down.

"r-rafe, oh my god," you moan softly as you reached his base. your eyes remained on his, the intimacy making the moment feel all the more hot.

rafe did most of the work, squeezing your hips as he lifted you up and down his cock, grunting out praises. it didnt take him long before he felt himself holding back, considering he had fantasized about this exact scenario before. you reached one of your hands down, you fingers circing you clit to further the pleausre, prompting you to throw your head back and let out a wanton moan. from there it didnt take you that long. you whimpered out pleads, not exactly sure what you were asking for, all you really knew was that it wasnt enough, and probably wouldnt ever be enough. you wanted to be as close to him as possible.

"fuck, m' almost there, pretty." he groans, lifting his hips to meet. you whimper, nodding along to his words. "same, fuck, im close."

at the confirmation, rafe speeds up his thrust, groaning as he felt your gummy walks clench around him. it was like you were trying to get him to cum inside you, which would be very bad.

you let out a series of curses that sounded so wrong coming from your sweet mouth as you released around him. your eyes stayed locked on his, your distance between your lips growing as you orgasmed, rafe slowing his movements down to guide you through it. as soon as you came back to reality, you lifteted yourself up and retured to your knees in front of him, you legs achign but you paid it no mind. you stuck you tongue out as you rapidly stroked his cock, finishing him up.

with the hotest groan you had ever head, he came in your mount, hot streaks painting your tongue white as you watch him throw his head back, eyes shut in pure bliss.

after a few seconds of catching his breath, he looked down at you, white still on you tongue as you waited for his attention. with a sweet smile, you swallow his seed, bed over to place a kiss on the inside of his thigh. "thank you," you murmur.

rafe chuckles breathily. "fuck, i should be thankin you, kid."

you grin up at him, before standing up shakily, rafe holding your hands to guide you.

you clear your throat. "so, you doin anything for the rest of the night? i was thinkin' bout a long shower and i might need the protection of my bodyguard." you bite your lip.

rafes lips tilt upwards. "y'know, i was thinkin the same thing, princess."

ps: this is very lightly edited for now, i will be workshopping a bit tmrw. just wanted to get this out for you guys tonight 🤍🎀

[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Title: Beaches and a dinner

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x wife!reader

Summary: You and Kylian enjoy a day in Miami

Warnings: A bit of suggestive content but nothing explicit.

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You stir from your sleep when you feel kisses planted on your upper back. One on your left shoulder blade, one on the nape of your neck, another one on your right shoulder blade, and finally the one placed behind your left ear pulls you completely from the clutches of sleep.

You turn to lie on your back and find your husband's smiling face hovering above you.

"Bonjour, mon amour," Kylian greets you as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Morning bébé," you respond with a hoarse voice.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Oui, and you?" you give him a sleepy smile.

"Oui," he pecks your lips.

Kylian knows you don't like it when he kisses you in the morning before you brush your teeth but he does it anyway. He lays his head on your breasts and your hand cradles the back of his head. You sigh as you feel him trace patterns on your stomach. You remain that way for a few minutes.

You stare at the window of the hotel where you can see the sun shining. You are in Miami for a much-needed vacation. Things have been hectic the past few months and you finally got a chance to take a break.

After a while, Kylian lifts his head to look at you, "you want to share a shower with me?" He asks.

"Okay," you say.

He lifts off the bed, pulls you with him and walks to the bathroom. He turns the water on and you both undress as you wait for the water to warm up.

But a shower is never just a shower with Kylian, and your moans of pleasure bouncing off the bathroom walls are proof of how much he craves you all the time.

After almost two hours, you walk out of the shower, balancing yourself against the wall cause your legs are still shaking from the steamy shower session.

When you are about to reach for a towel, a loud smack echoes through the bathroom and you feel a stinging sensation on your left butt cheek. Your head snaps to Kylian who has his hands on his waist and a proud grin on his face, water still dripping off his body.

He just spanked you.

You huff, squint your eyes at him and shake your head, not having the energy to scold him since he drained it in the shower.

You wrap a towel around your body and grab another to dry your braids. Kylian rips the towel around your body off and wraps it around his waist.

"Kyliaaaan," you whine and he laughs while exiting the bathroom.

When you finish getting ready, Kylian is dressed in a white tank top, orange shorts and an orange cap sits on his head.  You're dressed in black jeggings, a blue baggy t-shirt and a straw hat. Even though you are going to the beach, you've never liked showing skin, and although Kylian would love to see you in a bikini, the fact that what's underneath your clothes is strictly for his eyes only fills him with pride.

You grab a bag and put your phones, sunscreen, towels and anything else you might need inside. You head out of your hotel room and head to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. After eating you head to the beach.

Kylian is the most active of you two, going up and down the beach and taking pictures while you lay back on a sun lounger under an umbrella.

He throws himself on the lounger next to yours.

"Amour, you want to go in the water?" He asks.

"Definitely not. You know I can't swim Kylian," you say.

"Aww, come on. I'll be right there with you." He tries to convince you.

"Hm-hm," you refuse. "And besides, I'm still tired from the shower this morning. The water will just make it worse," you add.

Kylian snickers. You try to hit him but he quickly dodges. While he's an athlete with the stamina of a horse, you've never set foot in a gym so your lovemaking always left you worn out.

You close your eyes, trying to relax, but feel yourself being lifted in the air. Your hands automatically wrap around Kylian's neck as he carries you in the direction of the water.

"Kylian, what are you doing?" You shreak.

"Having fun with my wife," he grins at you, "we didn't come to the beach so you could sleep the whole time."

"Kylian," you call his name but he ignores you.

You try to get out of his arms but he's too strong. In no time, you feel the cold ocean water make contact with your body and you cling to him.

"Kylian!" you scream and he laughs.

He puts you down and the water reaches just below your bust.

"See, this is fun," he splashes you with water and laughs.

You try to act mad but can't hide the smile on your face. You end up playing in the water, splashing each other and Kylian chasing you all over the place. Your laughter echoes on the beach. This is the most fun you've had in months.

By the time you get out of the water, the sun is hanging low in the sky, casting a beautiful orange glow on the water. Your wet clothes cling to you as you take a few pictures of the scene. A breeze hits you and you shiver. As you look at the pictures you just took, a towel wraps around your shoulders.

Kylian rubs your arms over the towel as he stands behind you. He kisses behind your right ear and squeezes your shoulders.

"Are you alright, mon amour?" He asks.

You turn around to face him.

"Never better," you smile.

"Good," he kisses you. The kiss is long and salty due to the ocean water you both got in your mouths.

He breaks the kiss and pecks you multiple times all over your face causing you to giggle.

"Let's go, we have a dinner reservation at 19:00," he says.

He pulls you to where you left your belongings, and you pack up, then head back to the hotel.

When you arrive you take a shower, alone this time. Even though Kylian tried to join you, you locked him out of the bathroom.

By the time Kylian gets out of the shower you are already dressed. He whistles when he lays his eyes on you.

You are wearing a knee-length evening dress that hugs your body, revealing the curves that are constantly hidden under sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

Kylian walks over to you and grabs your waist before his hands fall to your curves.

"Amour, you look beautiful." He complements you.

"Thank you, my love," you blush.

He tries to kiss you but you put your palm against his mouth.

"Kylian, we are going to be late," you giggle at the confused look he gives you.

He rolls his eyes and steps away from you. He quickly dries himself, puts on lotion and gets dressed. He puts on the cologne he knows you like so much.

When you are both done, Kylian takes many pictures of you. He knows you don't dress up often so he wants to cherish this moment.

"Kylian let's go,"  you giggle as he keeps on snapping pictures.

"Just one more chérie," he keeps on saying.

An alert on his phone is what finally stops him.

"The car is here," he says.

"Okay, then, let's go," you say.

Kylian puts his phone and wallet in his pocket. You grab your purse in one hand and hold Kylian with the other.

The restaurant he takes you to is in the heart of Miami. It looks very posh so you assume a lot of celebrities come here.

"Reservation for Kylian Mbappé," your husband says to the host.

"Right this way," the man leads you to your table.

He hands you your menus and asks if you would like anything but you ask for time.

Kylian holds your hand across the table.

"Did you enjoy today?" He asks.

"Yes, I did," you say. You can't help the smile that spreads on your face.

"I'm glad to hear that," he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand.

"What about you, mon mari? We both know you needed this holiday more," you say.

"I did, and it's even better that you are here with me," he smiles.

You finally decide on what to eat and place your orders. You continue talking as you wait for your food, reflecting on the past few months and how much things have changed. How much your love has grown over the years.

Your food arrives and you dig in. You find yourself looking at Kylian and wondering how you got so lucky.

He lifts his eyes from his plate and catches you staring. He wipes his mouth with a napkin.

"What is it, amour?" He asks amused.

"Nothing. I'm just wondering how I got so lucky to find someone like you," you confess.

"I'm the lucky one here," he says.

"I love you, Kylian," you say wholeheartedly. "Even though it scares me sometimes, I wouldn't trade our love for anything."

"I love you too, mon amour. And I'm glad that out of all the men in this world you chose me to spend the rest of your life with," he kisses your knuckles.

You smile at him one more time before focusing on your food again.

"You know what? You are too far." You hear him say.

Kylian stands up, moves his chair from across you and places it right next to yours.

"There, that's better. Right?" He grins at you.

"Right," you laugh.

"Good," he pecks your cheek.

He pulls his plate in front of him, and you both enjoy the rest of your dinner, talking and laughing.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[adore-laur]

DEVOTION

— please enjoy harry & sawyer getting freaky in miami (inspired by this ask)💃

——

MIAMI, 1993

People are packed into the arena like sardines. August humidity suffuses the air, a cacophony of chatter overlaps, and infectious energy pulses in the room as everyone waits for Sade to hit the stage in all their sensational glory.

In the general admission area, Harry stands behind Sawyer with his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. Her footing shifts occasionally as she fiddles with his rings. He can sense her anticipation—she's been looking forward to this concert for months. When he gifted her the tickets on her birthday, she wept and kissed him with a hunger he had never experienced from her before. As much as he spoils her, she goes the extra mile to show him her appreciation.

Once the lights go out, Harry can't wait to see her vivacious eyes and dazzling smile.

Sawyer looks ravishing tonight. Her black cropped tank top has a variety of enticing little cutouts—no bra underneath, he might add—and she's wearing low-waisted denim shorts that hug her ass most temptingly. There's a reason he opted to stand behind her—two, actually. One, he doesn't want any dudes getting a sneak peek at his girl. And two, he doesn't need anyone to see his hardness through his leather pants.

She curled her hair with natural-looking spirals and teased it with spray. Her long, wavy mane has always been a hassle to manage in the summertime, so she cut it collarbone-length. Her front bangs are tightly clipped back, and she wears gold hoop earrings. She’s truly a stunner.

Prior to leaving, Harry watched her as she got ready for the concert. They live together in a swanky Orlando penthouse, where simple things like her clothes hanging in the closet and makeup supplies cluttering the bathroom sink make him unbelievably happy. While he gently reminded Sawyer that they needed to leave soon for the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Miami, she applied her mascara and teased him by showing her cleavage while bent over the vanity. Despite his provocative urges, he managed to resist giving in.

When Sawyer turns to look at him now, the room reduces to just her. Lucious lips are stained with a pomegranate-red gloss. Skin glowing with moisture. Dark eyes filled with warmth. It’s breathtaking to behold the sheer beauty of her features. Time and time again, she hypnotizes him. He's beginning to think she can cast spells on his lovesick soul.

Sawyer taps his bicep before standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear. In an instinctive move, Harry touches her hip and leans down to better hear her.

Fanning herself, she says, "It's muggy in here. I'm going to buy a water bottle and braid my hair in the bathroom."

"I'll go with you."

"But you have to save our spot," she reminds him.

Though he nearly protests, he reluctantly nods and caresses the slick skin of her bare middle back. "Fine. You have your phone?"

"In my purse. I'll be fast."

Harry kisses the spot between her eyebrows before letting her go, keeping her locked in his gaze until she disappears past the lower seating sections. In crowds, regardless of size, he doesn’t like losing her. During baseball games, it’s less worrying since she always sits in the same section in her reserved seat, but in Miami, he's extra cautious because it's an unfamiliar city. Sawyer can stand up for herself since sass and stubbornness are intertwined in her Aries DNA, but Harry remains fiercely protective of her. She's a certified sweetheart, conspicuously beautiful, and also quite gullible to a fault—if anyone attempts to take advantage of that, they'll have to answer to him.

While she's gone, Harry observes the venue. There are people from all walks of life surrounding him. The staggered seating sections flanking the floor are filling quickly, and it's reminiscent of playing at Tinker Field, where he would watch fans fill the bleachers from the dugout.

In a few weeks, the minor league season will conclude, and Harry is looking forward to taking a much-needed break from pitching and traveling. He's thankful he didn’t have a game scheduled today, which gave him and Sawyer the chance to step out for a date. It aches to know she's missed him a little more after such a long season. Due to her full-time job, she can’t always travel across America with him or attend home games, but they’re able to make it work by cherishing their time together. Next month, they plan to celebrate their second anniversary in Seville, Spain. They'll sunbathe on the scenic beaches, relish a couples massage, and take romantic strolls through the city's idyllic parks.

And, if Harry doesn't chicken out, he'll ask her to marry him.

Fondly smiling at the thought, he watches two girls strut toward him, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. They're wearing variations of the same outfit—metallic miniskirts, frilly halter tops, and chunky heels. Based on their strikingly similar features, they must be twins. Twin One holds a Canon camera, while Twin Two laughs into her hands.

Harry waves politely before shoving his hands in his pockets. The moment a fan recognizes him, he knows it. There’s a strange shift in the atmosphere when he temporarily loses his shield of privacy. It's unavoidable when fifteen thousand people are gathered in a Miami venue. It comes with the territory of being a famous Florida sports figure.

"Are you Harry Styles?"

Here we go.

Feeling abnormal but pushing past it, he says, "In the flesh. How's it going, ladies?"

"Oh my gosh, we love you," Twin One gushes. "You're hella cute. You play for the Sun Rays, right?"

"Sort of. Our team name changed recently. We're now the Orlando Cubs."

"Oh, cool," she says distractedly. "Anyway, we want a picture with you."

With a sharp inhale, Harry nods once. “Sure, no problem."

It doesn't bother him to take pictures or sign autographs. Most people are respectful and genuinely honored to meet him. Rarely, however, do people demand things from him, like right now. Then he feels prickles of discomfort. It makes him feel as though he's being exploited. It makes him feel fictitious.

As the girls swarm around him and touch him like he's a wax figure with no boundaries, Sawyer nudges her way through the crowd, water bottle in hand. As she processes the situation, her movements slow and her shoulders drop slightly. She has her hair in two messy braids, with the shorter layers springing loose. She looks effortless and... annoyed. Yeah, Harry is all too familiar with that look. He has been on the receiving end of those slanted eyebrows, those gritted teeth, and those assessing eyes. How will this play out?

When she sees Sawyer, Twin Two strokes his arm suggestively. Thankfully, they see her as a mere stranger rather than his girlfriend. His mind flashes back to past discussions about keeping their relationship as private as possible, and he decides not to sacrifice that for such a meager moment. No chance.

"Can you take a photo of us?" It was wise of her to ask, rather than demand. Otherwise, Harry's friendly mask would have definitely slipped.

Sawyer purses her lips as she meets Harry's gaze. "Do you mind?" he asks, his expression hinting at a secret message.

By taking Twin One's camera, she recognizes his unspoken signal and cleverly leaps into her role. God, he's thankful for her. He knows it's challenging to deal with these bizarre occurrences that pop their bubble, but she handles them all so gracefully. When they get home, he’ll shower her with affection.

Sawyer raises the camera to her eye and says, "I'll take a few."

Harry straightens his posture and awkwardly places his hands on both girls' upper arms. His muscles tense uncomfortably as their hands slither around his waist and linger near his stomach. Amid three flashes, he’s suffocated by the pungent smell of perfume and spearmint gum.

“There you go,” Sawyer says, giving the camera back and forcing a smile.

They browse the pictures before staring at Harry with a sickening amount of adoration. "It was awesome meeting you," Twin Two says, biting her lip. "We'll see you around at the next Sun Rays game."

"Cubs," Sawyer mumbles around a fake cough. Only Harry catches it, and he restrains himself from grinning proudly and kissing her senselessly.

"Nice to meet you both," he says, briefly touching his heart. "Enjoy the concert, yeah?"

They nod, blush, and giggle simultaneously before walking off, staring back at him a couple of times before fading into the sea of strangers. Harry releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and concentrates on Sawyer drinking from her water bottle. He's about to apologize for the unnatural situation, but the venue goes dark, and the audience erupts with deafening cheers.

The joy he expected to see in Sawyer's eyes isn't there. Silently, she crosses her arms and faces the stage with a blank expression. Harry curses at himself—he knows it isn't his fault and that it's just how Sawyer is. She takes things to heart and lets them stew until her skeptical thoughts overflow without a lid. The fact that she didn’t witness the entire interaction has made her understandably upset. Harry regrets not saying no to the fans.

First on the setlist is "The Sweetest Taboo"—sonically sensual, intoxicatingly groovy, and a fantastic way to open their show. Everybody dances to the exquisite beat and sings along to the lyrics. The energy in the room soars to an unimaginable level. It's contagious.

Harry grips Sawyer's hand so the crowd doesn't swallow her whole. She turns and smiles softly, finally bobbing her head to the music. Slowly, she loosens up, unfurling the passionate girl he knows lives within her. The one who loves to dance.

She looks resplendent as indigo lights glide across her face. Her body begins to move—the shape of her swaying hips and the pinch of her waist are irresistible. Harry settles behind her and follows her smooth movements, grinding against her backside. The warmth of his hands rests on her ribcage, and they dance, getting lost in the ecstasy of experiencing live music.

With each song, they forget about the world outside and fall more in love with each other.

——

Harry and Sawyer leave the arena on a high after being captivated by Sade's sultry voice and entrancing stage presence for over an hour. The parking lots are already congested with people trying to beat traffic, so they decide to wait until it calms down.

As soon as they get into the car, Harry starts the engine and turns on the air conditioning before reclining in the driver's seat. With exhaustion swimming through his bones, he sighs contently. It was a magical concert, but he's not looking forward to driving back to Orlando. He'll need to stop by 7/11 for an energy drink and some snacks. Fortunately, tomorrow is Sunday, so they can both sleep in and laze around the whole day.

Sawyer unbraids her hair and removes the clips, then shakes her head cutely to loosen her wild curls. She looks tired as well. They danced the night away together, not caring who saw them. He told her to climb on his back a few times so she could get a better view of the stage. During the romantic slow-tempo songs, she hugged and kissed him sweetly, and he swears he almost got down on one knee right then and there.

"I love you, baby," Harry says, watching her take off her Doc Martens. "Tonight was divine."

A smile spreads across Sawyer's face. "I love you too. Hey, listen..." She reaches over to caress his cheek and thumb the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry about my buzzkill attitude at the beginning."

Shaking his head, he kisses her palm. “You don't have to apologize. I appreciate how you handled those girls."

He hopes to forget about what happened. Honestly, as soon as the concert started, he forgot all about them. There was only one thing on his mind: Sawyer and the mesmerizing way she moved.

"I just... I got jealous," Sawyer confesses sheepishly.

Harry frowns in astonishment. Jealousy is a rare emotion for Sawyer. They’ve been dating for almost two years, and he can count on one hand the number of times she has been outwardly jealous. Since he only has eyes for her, there's no rhyme or reason for her to feel this way.

What a new and fun development, Harry thinks to himself. He loves how their relationship continues to surprise him.

Harry, however, has been caught having jealous fits many times before. Like that instance when Sawyer was invited to lunch by her so-called "cubicle neighbor." Harry is her forever lunch date, not anyone else. Even when he can't be there in person, he'll call her office fax number and keep her company while she munches her cucumber salad. Harry's jealousy grew when he discovered some guy was trying to steal that from him, so he ordered an impressive bouquet to be delivered to her desk the following day. It didn't take long for everyone to get the hint. Then there was that time when they were watching The Bodyguard, and Sawyer kept squealing girlishly over Kevin Costner's character. Okay, so he literally took a bullet for the woman he loved. Big deal! Harry smothered his jealousy by obnoxiously pretending to be Sawyer's bodyguard while exiting the movie theater and then proceeding to sing "I Have Nothing" off-key the entire way home. She just laughed, which was his goal in the first place.

"Why'd you get jealous?" Harry asks.

Sawyer's brow quirks. "Well, when I'm subjected to taking pictures of two pretty girls who are all over my boyfriend, it doesn't necessarily feel good."

"I know," he says, frustrated with himself. "I should've refused them. They kind of trapped me."

She pouts sympathetically before climbing over the console and straddling his thighs. "My sweet sunray. You're too nice."

Harry pulls her closer by hooking his fingers through her belt loops and tugging. "I'm sorry you were jealous."

"I shouldn't have been. You know why?"

"Tell me." Reaching around her, he turns up the volume of the radio to drown out the sounds of cars honking at each other. The cassette tape they listened to on the drive to Miami is still playing on loop. "Paradise" by Sade sets the mood.

"Because you're mine," Sawyer says with conviction.

Spreading his legs on the seat, he smirks. "Say that again, angel."

"You're mine. No one else's."

"Ditto," he replies, rubbing his palms along her suntanned thighs. "You've got my devotion."

His bodacious girl bites his bottom lip until it stings, then says, "Prove it."

"Good fuckin' lord," Harry murmurs against her mouth before diving in. He kisses her ravenously while fumbling to unbutton her shorts, eventually helping her shimmy out of them. Sawyer shoves her hand down his pants and grasps his bulge, stroking it purposefully. He gasps and slides his pants down halfway, revealing his tented boxers.

"Are you mine?" she asks, sitting right on his cock and sending shockwaves of sex drive down his spine. Her body's heat is addictive.

"Yes," he says breathlessly, kissing her flushed neck. "I'm your man."

"Then act like it. Show me who you belong to."

A shocked laugh escapes as he greedily grabs a handful of her ass. "Sawyer Alejandra, what has Miami done to you? Ay, Dios mío!"

She smiles seductively. "It's Sade's fault."

"Is that right?" Harry cranks the volume up even more before allusively sliding his hand under her top and cupping the swell of her breast. It fits perfectly, and when he teases her peaked nipple with his thumb, Sawyer's palm slaps against the window as she grinds against him. The glass is fogging with the A/C running, sweat drips down his back, and the song's driving bass line pulsates loudly through the speakers. It's filthy what they're doing, considering potential onlookers surround them. It's a good thing the car has tinted windows.

The thrill of their sexual escapade pulses through Harry's body. As he kisses Sawyer's heaving breasts through her top's cutouts, the pleasure becomes borderline intolerable. His lips search for any sliver of skin, and in response, she tugs at his hair and whimpers softly. Her skimpy lace underwear is damp, and he switches his attention to her clit. He rubs it with his knuckle, causing Sawyer's hips to momentarily stutter before she leans into the movement and stamps sloppy kisses all over his face, her cherry-flavored lip gloss transferring to his cheeks, nose, and jaw. They're as sweet as sugar.

"Almost there," Sawyer whispers, running her hand across his broad chest. Her fingers grip the material of his bejeweled sleeveless top to keep herself balanced, and Harry would let her rip it apart if he hadn't spent several hours meticulously hot gluing rhinestones onto it.

After kissing down her stomach and blowing air onto her belly button ring, he teases two fingers past her wet entrance, and it's all she needs to unravel completely. As she orgasms, she leaves love bites on his neck and moans. Her body language is desperate; the arch of her back and the tightening of her thighs against his own help her through her release.

"Nice and easy, baby," Harry murmurs, squeezing her waist. "Take your time."

From the gratifying pain she inflicts on the tender flesh of his neck, Harry comes in his boxers, his pelvis jerking as goosebumps rise over his skin in transient tidal waves. It feels equally divine and unholy to do what they just did. Tiredness kicks in as they both breathe heavily. Gradually, the condensation on the windows disappears. Sawyer's handprint is the last thing to vanish, and the sight will undeniably haunt his memory in the most marvelous way.

Harry opens the glovebox and finds the stash of napkins. After cleaning Sawyer and himself, he pulls his pants back up, shuts the radio off, and says, "I've made up my mind."

"About what?" Sawyer asks, sitting sideways on his lap so she can stretch her legs. In just her cropped top, underwear, and adorable ruffle socks, she's a masterpiece. And all his.

"I'm going to marry you one day," he says. It's something he's known for a long time. He hopes that easing her into the topic will make him more confident about proposing next month.

Sawyer pinches his earlobe. "Don't say dreamy things like that."

"Oh, that’s bogus," he retorts. "You say heart-stopping things to me all the time without even realizing it. Especially after sex."

"Not marriage-related things!"

"Does that mean you don't want to marry me?" he asks, fishing for a reaction.

When she goes quiet and stares contemplatively at him, Harry's stomach swoops. He knows her exceptionally well, which means he knows she tends to shy away from substantial conversations regarding their future when they're sprung upon her by his spontaneous nature. Perhaps it's too early to propose a lifelong commitment, but hasn't she imagined sharing a life with him before? The moment he kissed her for the first time, he fantasized about settling down, buying a house away from the city, tying the knot, and having curly-haired babies.

Eventually, Sawyer says, "I would marry you in this parking lot right now if you asked me to."

Harry feels an internal splash of relief and plays it cool by saying, "Please raise your standards."

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to marry me in a parking lot, lover boy?" She tosses her version of his question back to him with a frisky smile.

"I'd find you and marry you in every lifetime. How's that for an answer?"

She’s speechless for five full seconds before lurching forward to hug him, her heart hammering. "You're crazy. I love you so, so much."

"I adore you," Harry whispers. He reaches for the 'S' pendant hiding under his top's neckline and pulls it out. "I'm forever yours."

Sawyer kisses him repeatedly and says, "Forever."

During the journey home, she falls asleep with her head in his lap, holding his hand while he drives. His thumb absentmindedly strokes her ring finger, and he feels a surge of emotion and excitement knowing he will get to spend the years to come by her side.

Years filled with being deeply devoted to her.

——

[apoptoses]

It is #Molloy Monday and I am here to remind you that Daniel is featured most from 1975-1985 aka the Sluttiest Era of Modern Male Fashion.

Coming in HOT we have the cut off short shorts and cropped t-shirt or mostly unbuttoned button down combo. Daniel visited some warm climates during the chase years so I invite you to picture him in the tiniest ripped jean shorts sweating over whether or not that auburn haired lady down the street is actually Armand!!

Or going into the 80s sometimes the tops were REALLY cropped and exposed midrift and back!! Like just picture Daniel fucking around on Night Island in this, wow wow!!

But even when the pants were long the t-shirts were TIGHT, maximum pec definition through the shirt was a must.

If he didn't wanna show that much skin? That was fine because turtlenecks where IN baby!! These are basically vampire lingerie imo, covering up the most succulent part of the neck but still leaving a hint exposed below the jaw?? Armand had to have been dying of thirst!!!

(Also when it says Armand came to pick Daniel up from jail in a lawyer's tweed suit? He wasn't wearing no modern cut, he'd have been rocking the big lapels because this was the 70s tyvm)

Also important to note was that the 70s were the era of glam rock and androgyny, so picking a silky button down that looks like a women's blouse? Totally okay for men, very in style so long as you leave the top buttons undone to expose maximum chest.

Btw velour? Was IN. This is the 1979 equivalent of a juicy couture tracksuit which Armand could have snuggled right into while they were living in London.

And while the 80s sees the rise of a looser fit, that doesn't mean the crop top died or that people weren't still rocking a more form fitted jean when they were feeling casual.

This photo is from NYC in 1983 and shows that tight t-shirts and short shorts were still very much alive, just styled a bit differently! A tight top and looser straight leg jeans, or short bottom and a flowy open top took the place of all fitted looks.

Or that the mostly unbuttoned button down went away- if anything in the 80s the buttons went even LOWER and more revealing. Paired with a boxy linen suit this is essential 80s Miami aka Night Island looks.

and yeah that's spader, leave me alone, he's peak 80s here

This sweater is loose but it's got the deep V neck and a sheer knit, perfect for the beach!!

And yeah this is Sapder AGAIN but note the half open shirt, leather jacket, and jeans that get tighter near the ankle!! Classic 80s, baggy but still sexy, A+.

I SWEAR this is the last time I'm gonna use and abuse him but peep the muscle tank with the DIY cut edges on the arm holes! V neck! 80s!!!

Basically the takeaway here is that if you're putting them in the 80s and having them rock something baggy and double denim, the look still featured a tight waistline and rolled sleeves or rolled ankles to tighten the jeans. It wasn't just baggy all over!!

Here's some random images from the entire era to finish off:

So next time you're working on fic or art instead of just tossing Daniel into a regular old t-shirt and jeans consider doing some slutty 70s and 80s looks instead 😌

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The super-rich got that way through monopolies

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

Just in time for Davos, here's 'Taken, not earned: How monopolists drive the world’s power and wealth divide," a report from a coalition of international tax justice and anti-corporate activist groups:

https://www.balancedeconomy.net/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/Davos-Taken-not-Earned-full-Report-2024-FINAL.pdf

The rise of monopolies over the past 40 years came about as the result of specific, deliberate policy choices. As the report documents, the wealthiest people in America funneled a fortune into neutering antitrust enforcement, through the "consumer welfare" doctrine.

This is an economic theory that equates monopolies with efficiency: "If everyone is buying the same things from the same store, that tells you the store is doing something right, not something criminal." 40 years ago, and ever since, the wealthy have funded think-tanks, university programs and even "continuing education" programs for federal judges to push this line:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/13/post-bork-era/#manne-down

They didn't do this for ideological reasons – they were chasing material goals. Monopolies produce vast profits, and those profits produce vast wealth. The rise and rise of the super rich cannot be decoupled from the rise and rise of monopolies.

If you're new to this, you might think that "monopoly" only refers to a sector in which there is only one seller. But that's not what economists mean when they talk about monopolies and monopolization: for them, a monopoly is a company with power. Economists who talk about monopolies mean companies that "can act independently without needing to consider the responses of competitors, customers, workers, or even governments."

One way to measure that power is through markups ("the difference between the selling price of goods or services and their cost"). Very large companies in concentrated industries have very high markups, and they're getting higher. From 2017-22, the 20 largest companies in the world had average markups of 50%. The 100 largest companies average 43%. The smallest half of companies get average markups of 25%.

Those markups rose steeply during the covid lockdowns – and so did the wealth of the billionaires who own them. Tech billionaires – Bezos, Brin and Page, Gates and Ballmer – all made their fortunes from monopolies. Warren Buffet is a proud monopolist who says "the single most important decision in evaluating a business is pricing power… if you have to have a prayer session before raising the price by 10 percent, then you’ve got a terrible business."

We are living in the age of the monopoly. In the 1930s, the top 0.1% of US companies accounted for less than half of America's GDP. Today, it's 90%. And it's accelerating, with global mergers climbing from 2,676 in 1985 to 62,000 in 2021.

Monopoly's cheerleaders claim that these numbers vindicate them. Monopolies are so efficient that everyone wants to create them. Those efficiencies can be seen in the markups monopolies can charge, and the profits they can make. If a monopoly has a 50% markup, that's just the "efficiency of scale."

But what is the actual shape of this "efficiency?" How is it manifest? The report's authors answer this with one word: power.

Monopolists have the power "to extract wealth from, to restrict the freedoms of, and to manipulate or steer the vastly larger numbers of losers." They establish themselves as gatekeepers and create chokepoints that they can use to raise prices paid by their customers and lower the payout to their suppliers:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

These chokepoints let monopolies usurp "one of the ultimate prerogatives of state power: taxation." Amazon sellers pay a 51% tax to sell on the platform. App Store suppliers pay a 30% tax on every dollar they make with their apps. That translates into higher costs. Consider a good that costs $10 to make: the bottom 50% of companies (by size) would charge $12.50 for that product on average. The largest companies would charge $15. Thus monopolies don't just make their owners richer – they make everyone else poorer, too.

This power to set prices is behind the greedflation (or, more politely, "seller's inflation"). The CEOs of the largest companies in the world keep getting on investor calls and bragging about this:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/11/price-over-volume/#pepsi-pricing-power

The food system is incredibly monopolistic. The Cargill family own the largest commodity trader in the world, which is how they built up a family fortune worth $43b. Cargill is one of the "ABCD" companies ("Archer Daniels Midland, Bunge, Cargill and Louis Dreyfus") that control the world's food supply, and they tripled their profits during the lockdown.

Monopolies gouge everyone – even governments. Pfizer charged the NHS £18-22/shot for vaccines that cost £5/shot to make. They took the British government for £2bn – that's enough to pay last year's pay hike for NHS nurses, six times over,

But monopolies also abuse their suppliers, especially their employees. All over the world, competition authorities are uncovering "wage fixing" and "no poaching" agreements among large firms, who collude to put a cap on what workers in their sector can earn. Unions report workers having their pay determined by algorithms. Bosses lock employees in with noncompetes and huge repayment bills for "training":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/04/its-a-trap/#a-little-on-the-nose

Monopolies corrupt our governments. Companies with huge markups can spend some of that money on lobbying. The 20 largest companies in the world spend more than €155m/year lobbying in the US and alone, not counting the money they spend on industry associations and other cutouts that lobby on their behalf. Big Tech leads the pack on lobbying, accounting for 82% of EU lobbying spending and 58% of US lobbying.

One key monopoly lobbying priority is blocking climate action, from Apple lobbying against right-to-repair, which creates vast mountains of e-waste, to energy monopolist lobbying against renewables. And energy companies are getting more monopolistic, with Exxonmobil spending $65b to buy Pioneer and Chevron spending $60b to buy Hess. Many of the world's richest people are fossil fuel monopolists, like Charles and Julia Koch, the 18th and 19th richest people on the Forbes list. They spend fortunes on climate denial.

When people talk about the climate impact of billionaires, they tend to focus on the carbon footprints of their mansions and private jets, but the true environmental cost of the ultra rich comes from the anti-renewables, pro-emissions lobbying they buy with their monopoly winnings.

The good news is that the tide is turning on monopolies. A coalition of "businesses, workers, farmers, consumers and other civil society groups" have created a "remarkably successful anti-monopoly movement." The past three years saw more regulatory action on corporate mergers, price-gouging, predatory pricing, labor abuses and other evils of monopoly than we got in the past 40 years.

The business press – cheerleaders for monopoly – keep running editorials claiming that enforcers like Lina Khan are getting nothing done. Sure, WSJ, Khan's getting nothing done – that's why you ran 80 editorial about her:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

(Khan's winning like crazy. Just last month she killed four megamergers:)

https://www.thesling.org/the-ftc-just-blocked-four-mergers-in-a-month-heres-how-its-latest-win-fits-into-the-broader-campaign-to-revive-antitrust/

The EU and UK are taking actions that would have been unimaginable just a few years ago. Canada is finally set to get a real competition law, with the Trudeau government promising to add an "abuse of dominance" rule to Canada's antitrust system.

Even more exciting are the moves in the global south. In South Africa, "competition law contains some of the most progressive ideas of all":

It actively seeks to create greater economic participation, particularly for ‘historically disadvantaged persons’ as part of its public interest considerations in merger decisions.

Balzac wrote, "Behind every great fortune there is a crime." Chances are, the rapsheet includes an antitrust violation. Getting rid of monopolies won't get rid of all the billionaires, but it'll certainly get rid of a hell of a lot of them.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/17/monopolies-produce-billionaires/#inequality-corruption-climate-poverty-sweatshops

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Shades of Grey || CL16 {4}

Summary: Your happy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, fluff to make up for the hurt I have put you through. Word Count: 2k

F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || - complete

Two Years Later

Even with the moulded plugs fitting snug in your ear you could hear the roar of the Miami crowd as you stepped out onto the grid. It had been a long road of recovery and few people believed you would ever make it back into Formula One. But one person did, and he was there to support you every step of the way. 

“And the third Leclerc has entered the track now and she is in a decent space to be getting points after a good qualifying round yesterday.”

You blocked out the commentators that wove their way around the cars and teams, hoping to get a word from a driver or two, and continued your walk up the starting positions. Suddenly your earplugs were pulled out with an irritating pop and the full force of the atmosphere threatened to deafen you as you turned to the newest Alfa Romeo driver.

“Nervous?” Arthur asked for the thousandth time since Williams announced you would be back in the seat and no longer the reserved driver just a few weeks ago.

“I think you and your brother have that covered,” you said as you looked ahead to where Charles was talking to the media from his place in P4. 

Charles had barely slept last night. He had laid awake, holding you close like he was afraid to let you go. He knew it was your dream to race again and he had watched you put in the monumental effort to regain your strength after waking from the coma but now that you were there he was having trouble letting go. 

He had hardly been able to concentrate during the free practices and especially the qualifier and you knew it had affected his pace. Instead of asking his team for updates on his lap times he was asking about yours, and when a yellow flag slowed the track down his heart rate had spiked in response until his team reassured him the flag was nothing to do with you.

It was almost more than he could bear just seeing the few burn marks forever seared into the top of your back and he made sure he kissed the marred skin softly everytime he curled himself up against you. He hadn’t said anything about it to you, but you could see the worry in his eyes as he watched you getting dressed into the fireproofs that had saved your life when the fuel tank had exploded two years ago. 

“You’re still wearing your ring,” Arthur commented, pulling you from the memory of your morning spent wrapped in Charles’ arms.

You looked down at the simple gold band on your finger, smiling at the knowledge that the date engraved on the inside represented the best day of your life. “I only just put it on, and I don’t plan on ever taking it off.”

You both turned at the sound of Charles’ voice as he bounded over after finally breaking free of the Sky News reporter and a wide grin greeted you. He threw an arm over his brother’s shoulders, his helmet hanging by his fingertips, while his other hand snaked around your waist and pulled you into his side so he could kiss your temple. 

“Ready to make history?”

Arthur grinned back and nodded. “Three Leclerc's racing in F1.”

“Does one by marriage count?” you asked with a laugh as they both looked offended.

“Your last name is Leclerc, is it not?” Charles dared as he nodded to the ring on your finger and bit his lip. 

“So long as you keep looking at me like that it will be,” you replied with a wink and Arthur tore himself out from under his brother’s arm. 

“Get a room,” Arthur said with a juvenile gag.

Charles smirked as he placed his helmet on the ground and sat against the rear tire of brother's car so he could pull you between his legs and suggest, “There is still 30 minutes to the race.”

“You only need 30 seconds,” Arthur joked before darting into the midst of his engineers where he would be safe from his brother. It was nothing new for the good natured sibling rivalry to spill over onto the track and as often as they were seen hugging, they were also seen trying to tackle each other down to the ground to settle some debate.

It didn’t matter that there were literally hundreds of thousands of people at the event and even more watching live on their tv’s at home, you wanted his attention solely on yourself and you cupped his jaw that was clenched after his brother's taunt. He slowly turned back to face you and you stared into eyes that were the perfect mix of green and gold, like autumn leaves just before they fell. 

“You look tired,” you murmured as you tipped his chin back so the sunlight chased away the shadows on his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I like it when it’s just us out here.” He leaned in and rested his head between your breasts but there was so much padding in the race suit it was almost impossible to feel. “You, me and the stars.”

“And the alligators.” You grimaced at the thought of the animals that populated the state and draped your arms around Charles’ neck. “I can’t wait to go home. No alligators, or snakes, or Florida Man.”

“I can’t wait to go home so I can have you all to myself,” he said as Arthur made his way back over, complaining about the PDA as he approached, “with no interruptions.”

“Sky wants an interview with the first couple to race against each other,” Arther said as he jutted a thumb over his shoulder to the reporter behind him.

“Have they been asleep for the past 5 years? Poor Yuki.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Charles groaned.

“What, Pierre's boyfriend? You know I’m kidding.”

His arms tightened around your waist as he held on a little tighter and shook his head and mumbled his response.

“Babe, you just motorboated me on live tv.” You gently pushed him back so his words wouldn’t be lost to the thick padding of the racing suit. “What did you say?”

He ran a hand through his thick tufts of hair, his wedding band catching the sunlight as he did so. “Please, don’t joke about anyone being in a coma.”

Your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath and a stab of guilt hit you in the gut. “I’m sorry, my love,” you apologised as you saw the hurt in his eyes. “I didn’t even think.”

Charles nodded and rose to his feet, his forefinger trailing up your neck to your chin to guide your head back. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about every single second today. You are my world, and I nearly lost you once already.”

“You’ll never lose me, Charles,” you murmured as you ran your finger over his wedding ring. “I’m yours, forever, like I promised in our vows, I’m yours in this life and the next. I found my way back to you once before, there’s nothing that could keep me from finding you again.”

The noise on the track fell away as Charles dipped his head to capture your lips, stealing your breath when his tongue traced along your bottom lip. Your lips parted for him and he moaned softly at the access he had been desperate for, shamelessly deepening the kiss in the middle of the grid.

The fifteen minute warning alarm sounded and you reluctantly pulled away, his hands tightening for a moment before he sighed and released you. “I’ll walk you.”

Thankfully the media crews had moved on so there were no interrupts after wishing Arthur well and heading further up the starting grid. Charles’ bright red racing suit stood out amongst the sea of dark blue Williams’ crew but he felt at home around your team like they were his own too. 

You grabbed your bottle of water and held it out to Charles since he had been busy talking instead of drinking. He gave you a small shake of his head but dutifully wrapped his lips around the straw and sipped the electrolyte infused water. When you pulled a few macadamia nuts from your hidden stash in the car he outright laughed. 

“Seriously?”

“As your wife I take the role of keeping you fed and watered very seriously,” you said as you picked one and lifted it to his lips that curled up in amusement before letting you feed him. 

“Satisfied?” he asked after chewing the snack and swallowing it. 

“With you, always,” you said with a wink before one of the engineers handed your balaclava over, followed by your helmet. “Ready?”

Charles inhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring and his lips pressing tightly together as he swallowed deeply, and he took the white balaclava from your hands. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

The air turned heavy as he battled his fear and though you felt the same apprehension your focus was on easing Charles’ mind. Forcing a smirk onto your face, you brushed his dark hair back from his forehead. “You’ll see me in your rearview, right before I overtake you.”

Charles chuckled and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Would I still have to be your slave for a week?”

“Oh, babe, I don’t think a week would be enough for what I have planned with you.”

Charles pulled the balaclava over your head and straightened it with precision before stroking the top of your cheek that peeked out of the eye hole. “Win or lose, I’m yours.”

You reached up to his neckline where his own balaclava was tucked in so he didn’t have to carry it around and you pulled it over his head, brushing aside his hair that flattened nearly all the way down to his eyes. “I’m yours,” you echoed. 

The teams were starting to pack up and the grid was emptying as things got into serious race mode. Charles would have stayed until the very last second before he had to be seated in his car but you knew that wasn’t conducive to focusing on the race so you grabbed his helmet and pressed it to his chest. 

“Your cars looking lonely,” you said through the thickness in your throat. “Go.”

He was torn as his hands closed over yours and he looked down at his red and white helmet, the updated design holding both your initials and the date of your wedding as well as your racing number. Your’s was the same, only the colour scheme matched your car that had a complete overhaul and improvements since the accident. 

“Drive safe,” he rasped as his green eyes seared yours. He pulled the material of his balaclava down to free his lips and you did the same to seal the promise with a kiss.

“Sempre.” 

He started to walk away to finish his climb of the grid, two rows separating your places, but before he was out of ear shot you called out. “Hey, Chuck!” He turned with a bounce of his shoulders with a laugh that you couldn’t hear. “I love you.”

His palm slapped his chest twice before resting over his heart. “I love you too. Sempre.”

The first light turned red and you began your starting sequence. 

There was a moment where it felt as if the entire world held their breath and time slowed. Your eyes looked dead ahead but they saw more than just the five red lights ready to disappear and signal the eruption of chaos. You saw the vibrant flags in the grandstand, the baby blue of the sky above, the lush green grass past the first turn, and the bright red of the Ferrari two rows ahead. 

This was right where you were meant to be, not a single shade of grey in sight, no more voids of darkness. This was light. This was life. This was love.

Tagging: @alwaysclassyeagle @abeanontoast @theslytherinwriter @pjofics @91vhs 

[cooyahclothing]

We Are Reggae W.A.R. Cooyah

Tank tops and tees available worldwide at Cooyah.com

[purelyfiction]

miami vice || rhett abbott

Rhett Abbott x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,015 words

Summary: tailgates and trucker hats and drinky decisions. that's all.

Content Warning:  HEY!! THIS HAS SMUT!! So if you’re under 18 pleaseeee go away. (brother's best friend, f fingering, choking, oral f receiving, missionary, safe sex, CNC because drunk, strangers to lovers, possession kink if you squint?)

Author Note: hey bitches i'm not dead - jk ily all sorry. if you can't tell i'm self indulgent and needed to put this horny energy somewhere other than my head. enjoy.

"HEADS UP!" You barely register the sound before a sand filled bag clocks you right across the top of your eye, making you curse and drop your beer, hand flying up to your eye. The voice has traveled from the other side of the tent to land in front of you, a large hand taking your shoulder. "shit, i'm so sorry 'bout that."

Finally blinking away the pain in your eyelid, you can open both of your eyes to reveal the jackass who'd struck you - a jackass in a black sleeveless tank with a backward trucker hat. Your chin drops as you look him in very blue eyes, which are flooded with clouded concern. "You good? C'mere," his hand moves from your shoulder to behind your back as he moves to your side, carefully tucking under the tailgate tent. The male moves to one of what had to be a dozen blue coolers tucked under folding tables, pulling it open and carefully pushing the cold can to the affected eye. You've not said a damn word as he carefully settles the drink to your forehead, eyes still trained on him. "Real sorry, again I- my buddy's got shit aim."

"It's fine, I'll just go back to my place looking like I got jumped. " Your quick retort has him chuckling as he guides your hand to take the can and hold it. After he's sure you won't drop it, he's grabbing another two cans, large hands able to handle them with ease, extending one to you as he polishes off the other he'd carried over with him.

"You can actually drink that one." This time, its you laughing at you watch him crush the now empty can and toss it in a nearby hanging trash bag, clicking the tab to open it, foam coming to the top. Instinctually, you're dropping down to catch it with your lips before it can overflow onto his hand, the aluminum still in his grip. Withdrawing, you carefully navigate it from his hands.

"Thanks. You always treat the victims your sloppy shooter assaults?"

"Nah, only if they're stupidly hot." The forwardness leaves your eyebrows to pop up, the pain dully reminding you how you got here in the first place. The nameless cornhole vigilante reaches up to the tent frame, gripping to the accordion metal and leaning in. "I don't think I recognize you? Are you bummin' booze off these guys?"

"First you hit me with a sandbag and then have the nerve to question if I'm crashing a tailgate that isn't mine?" No Name points to your with an index finger while the remaining fingers keep curled around his Miller Lite.

"Good point. Name's Rhett." Nodding in response, you're carefully moving back to the cooler to toss a somewhat warm can back to the cooler, and return to your spot. Sorta. The brunette somehow seems closer - at least his face seems that way. You introduce yourself in response, and he laughs. "Dane's sister?"

"That's the one. This is all him. The RV, the parking pass - the booze I'm 'bumming' from him." Another sip of his beer blocks the view of his devilish grin. It almost matches the flames of the shirt he's wearing. "Where's the accent from? Definitely doesn't sound like it's from here."

He would proceed to explain that he's originally from Wyoming, and had come down to compete in the National Rodeo Circuit finalist events. That made him a cowboy cornhole viglinate. Rhett had insane stories from his events - like how he fucked up his shoulder on one of his best runs and rode again the very next day. When he ran out of stories - two beers later - he was happy to attempt to get revenge on his former cornhole partner for smacking you across the face.

"You're absolutely ass at this!" He laughs, watching the bag splat against the concrete. Bouncing along to a nearby speaker you turn to him when the other two start collecting bags.

"I gotta admit - I've never played."

"You-" His face fills with surprise and disdain, shaking his head, "How have you never- damn it, we're teaching you."

On the next turn, Rhett keeps the bags to himself, and feeds one into your hand. Before you can throw it however, his larger hand comes under yours, fingers skating along your forearm before getting comfortable under your grip. His chest is flush against your back, his scruff brushing against your ear as he leans in. Thick drawl gives you instructions about the power you want to put behind the throw, moving your arm along with it. Guiding your toss, the orange bag goes flying through the air, lands on the board and slides right into the hole. "Atta girl."

You end up losing the game, mainly because Rhett's cheating by continuing to tug you backward by the belt loop every time you take a shot to the board. Each time you looked over at him with a scowl, he would sip at his drink, mumbling 'don't look at me'.

The closer and closer to game time that you got, the thinner and thinner the tailgate group got. Dane had started cleaning up, his friends helping him put things inside the RV and his friend's pickups. Rhett still clings to you like tipsy velcro, his hand stuck in your back pocket as you try to help pack things away.

"Here, I'll dump out the cooler."

"Rhett there's still-"

"Oh there's still beer in here. Would be a shame to let it go to waste." Tossing one to you - which you somehow catch - he's snagging Dane's keys from a nearby table, pushing the first key blade he can find into the bottom of the can, duplicating the hole in your can that he's guided to the horizontal position. Dropping the keys to his feet, he looks at you. "Do I gotta teach this shit to you too?"

"You gonna cheat at this too?"

"Who said this was a race?" He asks.

"This is always a race. Three, two-" Both tabs crack open as you push the cans to your mouths, shotgunning commencing without a final count. As you tilt the can properly, you realize that Rhett has already finished his can, dropping it to the pavement. How the fuck- you obviously can't ask as you continue to chug, your throat working as you keep downing the liquid. Rhett's hand, coated in beer, carefully tucks under your chin, pushing your head further back, back and back.

"You can take it." If you weren't so determined to show him up - you would've sputtered foamy wheat water everywhere. You nearly choke thanks to the new pace, but make a smooth recovery. Dropping the can, you gasp for air, throwing your head back as you let the beverage settle in your stomach. Looking at Rhett, he's got a stupidly large grin on his face, upper lip covered in beer foam. You're about to say something when Dane comes out of the RV, calling your name.

"You don't have tickets right?" Nodding, the cowboy looks at Dane and then at you.

"You're not going?"

"Unless you're tucking me into your purse, Rhett - no." Dane slaps the taller male's shoulder before reaching down for the keys on the ground and pushing them into your hand.

"These are yours 'til we get back," Turning to Rhett, he nods toward the stadium. "Ready to start walking?" The mid-west male starts patting at his jeans, all the way down to his boots. Popping up to his full height, he grips your brother's shoulder much like he had yours earlier.

"I can't find my phone or my wallet. Let me go check the RV - I'll just meet you at the seats." Dane nods, and moves to the rest of the group, starting the trek to the metal building. When they're out of earshot, Rhett's hand tucks back into your pocket again. "You wanna give me the tour?"

In the most hasty fashion, you clamber into your brother's RV, showing off the kitchenette/living area, before leading him to the bunk areas, where you'd be sleeping tonight. Rhett's hand hasn't left your pocket at this point. As you show off the tiny space, he laughs. "What's so funny?"

"It's cute y'think both of us are gonna fit in there." Like a tipsy cocker spaniel, your head tilts at him. Fingers move to grip your ass through your jeans, before he spots the pocket door to the owner's bedroom of the mobile home. He's easily pushing the door open, a larger queen sized bed waiting on the other side of the door. "That's more like it." Before you can argue with him, his lips are latching to yours, hands gripping your hips enough to tug you flush against his own.

Rhett is efficient in pulling the jersey you were roasting in off your shoulders. The cowboy is about to let it hit the floor when you pull back. “Be smart about this.” You warn. Before you can blink, he’s thrown it to a side table and you back onto the bed.

“Or. You be smart and leave the commands to me.” A hand slides up from your lower back, up along your spine, soft finger tips electrifying the skin under them as he finds the strap of your bra. His lips busy themselves along your neck, wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses are soft and smooth compared to the sharp and coarseness of his stubble. The clasps are disengaged in quick time, and he pulls away from your skin to switch to the other side of your neck. Your bra- unlike the jersey- is discarded to the floor, leaving you in jeans that hugged you well, and sweat slick bare skin.

He carefully cups your breast, gripping onto it, a thumb rolling over the peak as your head cranes back. His kisses are getting shorter and closer and closer to your chest, until the warm and wet feeling blooms along your other boob, his tongue forming many shapes in the process. Your hands are eager to tug the backwards hat off his head, fingers carding through his hair, tugging with teeth teasingly scraping your skin a moan lifts from you. “Oh did my girl like that?” He taunts, moving to switch sides.

As he keeps mouthing at your tits, his hands busy themselves with your belt and button of your pants. It’s damn near expert execution, jeans swiftly thudding to the floor, no awkward entanglement to be found. His maneuvers leave you with only your panties left to hide yourself from him, but even then, a curious index finger runs along your pussy lips through the skimpy material. Slowly, he pulls the elastic free from your skin, running along it in a pacing line, smirking up at you as he moves to the edge of the bed. "This is such a treat, cause I know that stadium doesn't serve tacos." Adjusting to sit on your forearms, you stare him down as his lips start leaving wet spots along your inner thighs, a slight sound leaving you. "Did you just call my pussy a taco?"

An idiotic and drunken smirk floods his face as rough hands slide under the sides of your underwear. "Depends. Am I gonna starve, or are you gonna let me eat it?"

The surprise on your face speaks for itself as his hands free the material from your hips. His hands come to your calves, guiding your legs to prop up and spread apart. "Let me just set my plate here- that's just perfect." It takes mere seconds for his tongue to slide between your folds, the sensation making you somewhat melt along the duvet under you. He doesn't continue in his stripe patterns but in zig-zags, waves - patterns that tease you and just barely hit your clit. Rhett keeps this behaviour up until you're grinding up against him, his hands grabbing your hips. The hold is tight, and sharp blue eyes glare up at you, darkening as you whine.

"You're gonna stay right where I put ya. Y'hear?"

"But-" He snaps up back onto his feet, hovering over you again, his finger tips gliding along your skin and delicately wrapping around your throat.

"Wanna try that again?" It's punctuated with the slightest squeeze, the revelation that he was truly in control. You shake your head, and he smirks, his eyes locking you and your attention in as he catches you off guard, his other hand pushing a finger into you, thoroughly soaked from his toying. "Good girl. You just sit there and look all pretty while I take care'a you." His hand at your lower half begin to pump in and out, his other hand still decorating your body in the form of a necklace. "You are just the damndest thing I ever did see, know that baby?"

Rhett's thumb comes from the side of your neck, tracing along your jawline and chin before it taps your bottom lip. "Open up, my girl." You do as you're told as he dips his thumb past your lips, instinctively closing around him. Your cheeks hollow out as you suck intently - the digit stifling the moan that vibrates through you as he gets another finger into you. "God you are so fuckin' beautiful." It's muttered as his hand picks up a pace, your body relaxing and holding onto him tightly in two separate places. The faster his hand rocks into you, the more distracted your tongue becomes, he can tell. Which is why his hand pulls back, using the slick from your lips to begin rubbing circles against your clit, the feeling making you sigh in contentment. His lips trap yours momentarily, his tongue running along your teeth as his hands blindly work against you.

"Fuck, you are so wet for me, aren't you?" Rhett pulls back, the both of you catching your breath as pushes - in, out, in out. Your jaw slacks, trying to get an answer out. A particularly rough thrust of his hand drives his question again. "Aren't you?"

Eagerly, you nod, a gasping answer sneaking out. "Yes, god, I'm so wet, so wet for you, Rhett."

His hands retreat, moments from letting you finish with just his fingers. The male is rapidly undoing his belt buckle, slithering a hand into his back pocket, fishing out a condom from it. He sticks it between his teeth as he barely manages to get his hard on free from his boxers.

Part of you wants to ask him to let you put it on, let you admire the length that has sprung free from his jeans, but you know he's working against a running clock. Someone is going to notice he's taking too long. He didn't want to run that risk it seems.

The wrapper disappears somewhere. You're sure it remains somewhere in the RV floorboards, but as he's entering you, there's no fucking way you care where the evidence went.

Rhett presses into you, inch by inch, his lips playing with a spot on your neck. He stretches you so well, a hiss coming from you that times well with how he sucks a bite mark onto your skin. "My girl's so tight for me. Fuckin' so goddamn tight." His voice is low, gruff and right in your ear.

The smell of his body wash hovers over you, mixing with the newly formed scent of sex in the air as he pulls back, only to move forward again. "Sweetheart, you want me to move?"

"Yes, yes I want you to move-"

"Ask me nicely, baby." He freezes above you, staring you down, piercing blue eyes drinking you in like this. Sweat slick from the stale air of an RV and the Miami heat, tucked under him, captive.

"Please move, baby. Please, I just wanna come." The expression he makes strokes your ego in ways it likely shouldn't.

"Oh you're gonna come, I'll promise you that- you're gonna come." His hips begin rutting into you as he stands up a little further, hands coming up under your knees. Propping your legs up slightly, not fully extended but providing an angle to get even deeper into you, a sound escapes you, pinpointing exactly when he does. As his thrusts move quicker and quicker, your legs seem to slip from his hands, leaving him to reach up on the bed, snagging the nearest pillow.

"Hips up, sweetheart." A pant leaves him as he aids you to pop up, sliding the cushion under you. Upon the next thrust, and each one after, Rhett continues to hit the exact same spot, earning himself a rhythm of moans that time with his hips. "Oh honey, if they didn't know, they sure do now."

His hand drops between where the two of you meet, his thumb returning to do paces, sending you careening off the edge and into a blazing white haze, your body shuddering from the sensation.

Your cowboy continues his pace, no faster, no slower - continuing to ride out until you're nodding, encouraging him along. His pace picks up, his lips snagging onto yours as the sound of a cell phone comes from the floor. It only serves as encouragement for him, until he's finishing, his upper body hovering over yours as sloppy kisses and whimpers from him fill the soundscape.

His phone stops ringing, and when he pulls out, you remain trapped under him. Rhett gives you one more slow kiss before he moves to pull off the condom, cleaning himself up. "I think that big brother of yours is lookin' for me." He charms, pulling his pants back up, zipping himself up.

"Seems like it does." You offer, squirming on the bed, not ready to get up yet. Rhett pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding and confirming that's who'd called.

This time, your phone starts going off.

Simultaneously, his does too.

Then there's a pounding coming from the RV door.

[dineshartshop]

(via "Back Miami Dolphins " Classic T-Shirt for Sale by DineshArtShop)

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Miles and the jewellery cat (black y/n)

BEWARE THE WORDS IN RED. PLEASE AVOID THEM IF UNCONFORTABLE WITH NSFW PLEASE WARRANT THIS INTO CONSIDERATION BEFORE READING THANK YOU LOVELIES

-MR. BLACK-LUPIN

There's a perfectly cut hole in the roof Ganke, this was a pro” a voice cuts him off. 

“Thank you for the compliment spidy” Miles turns and is met with Cat, or Y/N L/N. 

“Ganke, Imma call you back” Miles turned off his intercom as he walked towards.”Wai-” but Ganke could only stare at the red mike. 

Miles directed his attention to y/n who had secured her jewellery pouch to her waist. 

“Y/N?” he came closer till there was only a foot between them. “What are you doing here mami”

“They had a specific thing i was looking for, i decided to drop in and grab it before someone else did” y/n was a variant of catwoman. She pouted her lips as she glanced at another gem on display. 

“Come one papi, can i go” Miles’ heart fluttered in his chest as y/n said papi.

“I gotta turn you in Miami” y/n’s shoulders slumped before popping back up.

“That’s sad, Spidy, but you’re gonna have to catch me first” and with that y/n had somehow reached the ceiling through the perfect hole. 

“Game on Kitty” Miles whispered under his breath before going after her. 

On fifth avenue, y/n had perched on the lancer building which was the tallest on the block. Y/n turned to check if Miles was behind her. 

“Where is he?” She looked over the building. “Did he stop?” she felt a warm breath on her cheek. 

“Of course not, if you ask me to follow you I’d do it in a heartbeat” y/n blushed but she didn’t turn to face him, she didn’t respond. Miles chuckled and flipped her, earning a shriek. “And for a second i thought cat got your tongue, careful now don’t want to wake the neighbours” 

“Let's go” y/n said, a small frown on her face. She was gonna have to break out of prison, fortunately her afro (which was surprisingly well hidden in her mask) held lock picking tools and with a little luck she could bullshit the cops that they’d be racist if they told her to cut it down. She’d be out in no time.

“Go where?” Miles asked bewildered. 

“The Police Station?”Y/n didn’t know if he was joking or if he swung his brain cells as he chased after her. “Obviously”

“Mami i’m not taking you” Y/n finally looked the boy in his eyes, those sweet eyes that held her attention longer than they should have. “I don’t plan on taking you in unless you want to turn yourself in,”

“But the jew-” Y/N patted her side and couldn’t feel the pouch. “Huh?” 

Miles just chuckled at her. “I was a little late for a reason” She was supposed to be mad at him but he laughed. 

“Miles,”

“Yeah Mami”

“Can you take me home” 

“I was just about to,” He wraps his arm around her waist and she feels her heart race. Even with the suit on she could still feel the tingles on her skin.  She puts her head on his chest and feels his heart, it’s almost as wild as hers. 

Could he feel the same way

It’s probably because he’s swinging, yeah. Right?

They landed on the fire escape of her apartment building. She removes herself from him and goes over to her window. 

“Try not to steal anything on your way to bed” Miles jokes and she can’t help but smile at him. She never can. He always makes her smile. No matter the situation. 

“Miles…”

“Yeah Mami” 

“Can you stay?” she mentally curses herself. “I’d appreciate the company”

“Awww, you’d miss me huh” Miles smirks, “I’ll be right back mami,” Miles falls off the building and swings off. 

He’s not coming back

Y/n changes into her pjs which are just a pair of shorts which barely covers her ass and a cute tank top. She turns off the lights in the other room but when she enters her bedroom she sees Miles in different clothes, a shirt and shorts. 

“Damn” he whistles. “You are beautiful”  Y/n blushes. She never really got compliments a lot because of her size. Miles came closer, “What? No one’s ever told you, that’s you are beautiful,” Miles glances out the window rubbing the back of neck. “You probably weren't listening"

“I-i can change” I point at my closet. 

Miles looks back at y/n. “No no don’t I like it, you’re comfortable in it and honestly I like the view” y/n’s heart was racing. Breathe.

Y/n sat on the bed as Miles sat on the sil of the window. 

“Don’t tell me you’re sleeping there” Miles furrowed his brow. 

“Of course not,” he gestures to a sleeping bag on the floor.

“Come one Miles”

 Miles shakes his head. “I’m a guest in your house, the bed goes to you and the sil is a little to thin for sleeping and you wanted company not a roommate so obviously not the couch-”

“Miles”

“Yeah Mami”

“Shut up and bring your black ass up on this bed”

“Mam-”

“Now”

Miles popped onto the bed right beside you, you turned away from him and snuggled into him, spooning him. He held you and then you fell asleep. Although you faintly heard him say something with a beautiful attached to it. 

~Miles often did this that you soon stopped asking, he’d spend most of his nights with you and your feelings for him only grew. It was three months after the jewellery heist went wrong. Miles found out about the fake sack of jewels she had on her that day, all she could do was laugh. It was on the morning after~

***

“I nearly gave a sack of rocks to the commissioner, aka my father…”  y/n was bawling her eyes out. “If i hadn’t dropped it accidentally on my way there… you y/n are extraordinary. Where are the actual jewels?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know” y/n wiped a tear from her eye. “Don’t worry I gave some of them back, but that was because of my affection for you.”  Y/n uncrossed her legs as she stretched them out on the bed, she fell back on the bed before propping herself on her elbows. 

“Affection?”

“Mhmm,”

***

Y/n noticed that Miles wasn’t himself today though, he seemed distant. Right now he was sitting on her spinny chair. Doing something she never thought she’d ever do. She goes over to him and straddles him. Immediately he snaps out of his funk, “Y/n what are you doing?” Miles tried to sound calm but his heart was racing.

“Miles, something’s up with you, your being weirder than usual”

“What do you mean, nothi-”

“Don’t lie to me boy, I can read you like a book and something’s up” Miles sighs and stays silent for a second. 

“Y/n” he whispers. He looks you up and down as though framing this image of you in his head for all eternity.

“Miles” 

“I like you” 

“What of course you do, how else would you be able to stand m-?”

“No Y/n, I like you as in I want to hold you, but not like i always do, i want to hold you like a lover, I want to kiss your soft lips every single minute of the goddamned day. I want to wake up everyday knowing that one day, I can go down on my knees and ask you to marry me. I like you in a way that if I’m not careful around you I might tell you I love you instead, I like you way more than a friend. But,”

But what?

“But I have no clue if you feel the same way or if you just want us to be more than friends, just friends,” he shakes his head. “You do shit like this that makes we want to say fuck it and kiss you and hold you till sunrise, then take you out”

“You-” you don’t let him finish, you kiss him hard. You run your hands through his hair as you kiss him with all of you. You kiss him like he’s the oxygen you need to survive. You look him in his eyes, “Oh Miles, i love you too, I love you so much it scares me” He’s shocked at first but then he palms your cheek and deepens the kiss, he moves from your lips down to your neck probably leaving multiple hickeys. 

NSFW COMES IN HERE His hands reach under your shirt and start pinching and squeezing your nipples sending electric shocks down your spine.  He felt so goddamn good against me "Miles…" you moan. Miles moves down to your neck and collar bone. "Mami, we don't want your mom Investigating now do we," he rolls his hips grinding back.  "Miles…please," Miles chuckles.  "You'll have to be more specific," "I- fuck, I want you," "How?"  "Headfirst between my thighs" Miles chuckles.. “Whatever you say,” NSFW ENDS HERE

After that day, Miles and you started dating. Ganke still holds you for the robbery heist. Miles takes you dates everywhere. You also took him on a date, mostly when he wasn't expecting it. It was adorable, one time you bought him ice cream for your ice- cream date and you flirted with him the entire time. It was only when you were three blocks away did he notice. By then your ice creams were nearly out. 

“Shit we forgot to pay” Miles starts to turn when you stop him in his tracks. 

“Calm down Miles I paid” Miles turns to look at you surprised, “It’s my treat today” I continue. 

“Mami” he rolls his head back and whines.

“Yeah Papi” Miles’ head snaps right back and he looks away blushing. He always blushes when you call him papi. 

“I’m supposed to be paying, not you.'' I chuckle. 

“We both pay, I’m not gonna have you buying everything nu uh, I make my own money although at a restaurant we will either split the bill or play rock paper scissors” Papi- Miles sighs and gives up.

He pecks my forehead and leans in. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice huh” He jokes. “I got an independent woman on my hands”

I chuckle, “Yeah you do”

You chuckle at the memory, he still blushes when you call him papi. Two strong arms wrap around your waist. A peck is placed at the back of your neck. 

“Miles” 

“Y/N”

“You almost scared you know” I turned to face him and put my hands on his chest. “A little more practice should do you good”

“Quiet as a cat” he whispers a smile on his face

“Sneaky as a spider”