#this post is OOZING with sarcasm

[urlocalbitchboy]

I oh so love the fact that porn bots are back in fuckin fandom tags, I love following the toh tag, and scrolling through my dash only to get flashed by a straight up asshole 🙃🙃🙃

[towersofviolet]

trying to find a gender-neutral alternative to ~girlies~ that conveys the same emotion and tone... like ~besties~ is almost there but it gives me the ick + isn't unhinged enough

[bnuuys]

so my drawing tab died right but luckily i had a backup ❤️ and it feels so much worse ❤️❤️❤️

[kingkatsuki]

— twist of fate

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’, and yet here you were drinking on a rooftop with the Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight.

I promised I’d post some more Bakugou cause it has been a little while and I do miss him! I actually wrote this for his birthday, but then I ended up posting the collab fic instead so I never got to write the smut part but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: breakups (not with Bakugou), mutual comfort, alcohol.

Word Count: 1.8k.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’.

I love you— what a big fucking lie.

You scoffed as you took a large gulp from the champagne bottle you were holding, grabbed from the bar at your now abandoned reception as you looked out at the view of Musutafu at night. The viewing point was somewhere you used to visit with your fiance, and to think it was the first place you’d decided to go when you found out he’d left you at the altar was borderline morbid. But considering your perfect life had now crumbled around you, you could forgive yourself for the psychological torment.

Kicking your heels off as your feet began to ache, letting them drop to the floor as you swung your legs over the ledge. Your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you sat on the grass, “Your pretty dress is ruined!” Not that you’d have any use for it now, your perfect life was pretty much gone.

“You know how dangerous it is drinkin’ so close to the edge?” You rolled your eyes in irritation at the sound, turning your head ready to shot some expletives in their direction before your words caught at the back of your throat.

You had to do a double take to make sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, and that you weren’t this inhibriated already. The Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight stood a few feet away, arms crossed with his face set in a a heavy glare. But he didn’t appear to have his gauntlets with him, even though his belt was still full of grenades and his mask sat over his eyes. Instead he was covered in a thick black hoodie that was zipped to cover the garish orange X that splashed across his chest.

“Well it must be my lucky night, I’ve got a Pro-Hero here to save me.” Sarcasm oozed through your tone as you held your large bottle up in a mock cheers to the Number Two hero that had appeared over the hill.

Besides the randy teenagers that used to frequent the area to make out and get high, this side of Musutafu was usually pretty abandoned so you were disappointed to see you were no longer alone.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart.” He sneered back, shaking his head, “And I shouldn’t have to waste my time saving stupid people like you.”

“So don’t save me then,” You shrugged, turning back to face the city as the sun slowly fell over the horizon.

You expected him to walk away and leave you there, probably on a patrol to catch the kids that used the area to get high. But what you didn’t expect is for him to take a seat in the dirty grass beside you.

“Thought you couldn’t waste your time.”

“How’s it gonna look if I see your face all over the papers tomorrow with my face under it sayin’ I should’a saved you?”

You turned to face him, noticing the dark rings of charcoal around his eyes filled in from where his mask sat. A three-day strubble cast a shadow across his jawline and you had to take another sip of champagne to pull your attention away.

“I didn’t think you cared what the media said about you, Dynamight.” You laughed, remembering a post you’d seen online earlier that month where he’d shoved a reporter to the ground at the scene of a crime and broke his camera.

“I don’t.” He scoffs, “But I ain’t a total fucking asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” You laugh, gulping another mouthful of champagne as you look down at the city lights below, “You make it your business to go around breaking cameras?”

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Bakugou sneers, “That guy deserved it. Tryin’ to take pictures in the middle of a fight— he’s lucky I saved him or he’d have come out far worse than his shitty camera.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“So you gonna explain why you’re up here in—”

“Oh, why am I wearing a wedding dress and drinking alone?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “My fiancé decided to stick his dick into my best friend.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath this mask at the blunt statement before he shook his head, keeping his attention ahead to the bright lights in front of you.

“Shit.” He muttered beneath his breath.

You scoff, taking another swig of champagne, “So I guess you could say I’m celebrating.”

“That’s rough.” He reached up to scratch at his stubble before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“So why are you up here, Mr Number Two?” You smile, “Not got any babies to save from burning buildings? Or camera men to hit—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He scoffed, his nose scrunched in irritation before his face paled.

You thought perhaps he might get up and leave after your bold question but instead he sniffed, using the outside of his wrist to rub his nose before looking across at the city.

“A villain attacked a building just outside Musutafu tonight,” He muttered hoarsely, “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Shit— I’m so sorry,” You immediately stammered, feeling like such an asshole. Your problems were miniscule in proportion to this, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, “I would’a never made it, but it still fuckin’ sucks, you know?”

“Yeah,” You murmured back. How could you even comfort someone for something like that? There weren’t enough words in the world that would convey the empathy you felt for him, and the victims.

“I just needed to get away for a bit.” He rasped.

“Me too,” You smiled, “I was sick of everyone looking at me with pity.”

Your family and bridesmaids had been suffocating after it happened, pulling you into their arms and drowning you in faux sympathy.

“Oh my god, I couldn’t imagine that ever happening to me.”

“It’s okay you’re such a strong person, you can do so much better.”

“If my husband ever did this I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m glad this came out now and not at my wedding.”

“Such a waste of a pretty dress.”

It was all the same bullshit as you listened to your friends slowly start to make it about themselves while your world crumbled down around you— So you left, thankful you hadn’t bothered to bring your phone as you were left to your own devices.

You offer the champagne bottle out to Bakugou as he stared down at it for a moment before taking it. Adjusting it in one large fist around the base of it before taking a large swig.

“If it means anything, it seems like he’s the fuckin’ idiot for cheating on you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he passed the bottle back, “Only a real piece of shit leaves his missus on her wedding day.”

His words still managed to have your heart fluttering. You weren’t naive, you knew he was only trying to be nice, especially when thick black lines of eyeliner and mascara smudged in tear stains down your cheeks. Your lipstick faded around your lips and stuck to the neck of your champagne bottle, and your hair was now a complete mess from where you’d ripped out your veil, and still he managed to have you smiling as you couldnt stop the grin that spread across your cheeks.

“How long were they fuckin’?” He asked, and you appreciated the bluntness of it.

“Six months,” You shook your head, “Apparently they got close planning the wedding.”

“Shit, that’s fucked up.” He shook his head, reaching back for the champagne bottle as you watched him take another drink. Certain your lipstick was pressed against his chapped lips now as you shared the same bottle.

“Yep,” You rolled the ‘p’, “And apparently he spent the night with her after the rehearsal too,” You sighed, “I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs.”

“Ain’t any of this that’s your fault,” He shook his head, taking another swig of champagne before handing the bottle back to you, “And thinkin’ like that will eat you up inside.”

“Could say the same thing to you, Dynamight.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t suck,” He shook his head, “And call me Bakugou, I ain’t workin’.”

“I’m glad to hear the Number Two hero doesn’t drink on the job— fuck.”

You shivered as a gust of wind swirled through the vantage point, reminding you of your outfit as you’d left the venue without a suitable coat. Hugging your arms around your body to try and stop your teeth from chattering as you drank more champagne, hoping the alcohol would warm your veins.

You heard a zip to the side of you and before you could object, Bakugou was shrugging his hoodie off to wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me, you’ll get cold—”

“Shaddup,” He cut you off, taking the champagne bottle back off you so that you could slip your hands through the arms, “Just take it, woman.”

You were immediately surrounded by warmth, his body heat still radiated from the fabric as you breathed in the scent of him. A mixture of ash, smoke and cologne as you pulled it tighter around your frame.

Bakugou pulled his hero mask up over his eyes to let it sit on his forehead, his messy hair now spiking upwards as he rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm. The dark eyeliner around them smearing against his skin as he breathed a relaxed sigh, taking another drink as he turned his attention back to the view in front of him.

“You’re quite pretty actually,” You smiled at him, “The media always get you pulling the ugliest faces.”

“Hah?” He turned to you with a raised brow, his nose scrunched in irritation, “That’s still my fuckin’ face you know.

“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s really pretty.” You definitely blamed the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you this level of confidence, certain the words would never have left your lips if you were sober.

“I ain’t ever been called pretty before.” He scoffed.

“I dunno why not— because it’s true.” You smiled.

“I ain’t the pretty one out of us two, sweetheart. Trust me.”

[witherby]

el ngl i keep thinking about your golden child nightwing x unlovable reject reader 😞☝🏻 imagine the potential

This got buried in my inbox BUT YES IMAGINE IT

Dick has a new rogue in his Blüdhaven gallery and it's you! You're not exactly killing or hurting anybody but the crimes aren't "victimless" either. Some pilfered wallets here or there. Some stolen groceries from a convenience store. Loitering outside a business that has a No Loitering sign posted on the building. Etc. etc.

It's enough that he feels the need to track you down and give you a stern talking to. You smirk, look him up and down, and show no signs of remorse.

"What kinda after school special, Scared Straight bullshit is this? Don't you bust real criminals, cutie?"

And Dick is floundering. Because you're right, this is not his usual gig. He's used to giving uppity pep talks to children that got separated from their parents, or repeat offenders that can't seem to stay away from crime. You're just kind of a nuisance. He kinda feels like he's giving a speech at a school assembly about bullying, but instead of taking him seriously you've gone straight back to bullying.

You ball up the wrapper to a hot dog you stole from the gas station and toss it at him. It bounces off his chest as he stares at you incredulously.

"This was so fun," you say, practically oozing sarcasm, "I love dinner and a show, but I'm busy fucking off somewhere and I think you should do the same. Get off your sparkly high horse and hit me up if you ever decide to drop the straight-and-narrow, pencil-pusher attitude."

And Dick watches you go. The fuck is he gonna do, arrest you? For what? The line between negligible crime and required intervention is thin, and you're fucking tap-dancing on it. He can't do a thing about you as you currently are, and as he goes home to his apartment after patrol, he can't stop thinking about you either.

"...I'm not a pencil pusher," he mumbles to himself.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Stress Relief

Summary: After a recent promotion, Javi has had a lot on his plate. Thankfully, you know just what to do to help him de-stress.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, post season 3)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (make safe choices pls), oral (m receiving), creampie, size kink (ish?), praise kink, sex as stress relief, Subby, whimpering Javi because giving him a surprise blowjob when you know he's stressed would make him crumble, this is literally porn without a plot WHOOPS

A/N: Shoutout to my job for having a system wide data outage today so I didn't have to work and got to write this instead 🤪 Poor bby cow eyes deserves all the stress relief in the world, and who am I to deny him 🤷🏼‍♀️ Also proud of myself because this is the first thing I've written without an obscene breeding kink in God knows how long, gold stars for me LMAO

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

“You’re still working?” 

“No, I just really like sitting here and going through all this fucking paperwork for fun.” Javi sighed, sarcasm oozing out of his words as he leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

As thankful as Javi was for his much more structured, low risk job at the Laredo Sheriff's Department compared to his time back in Colombia, his recent promotion had put way more on his plate than he had expected. 

Begrudgingly, Javi had been bringing work home with him most nights to make up for what he couldn’t finish in the office, leaving him in an exceptionally sour mood that he was spending his nights finishing paperwork instead of spending time with you. 

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be an asshole, Querida.” Javi huffed, upset with himself that any ounce of him was resorting to taking his frustrations out on you. “I just- I’ve just been really stressed about trying to get all this shit done.” 

“Really? I can’t tell. You don’t seem stressed at all.” You quietly teased, your sarcasm enough to at least crack a small smile out of his pouted frown. 

Pushing the office door open, you softly padded into the room, placing yourself behind Javi’s desk chair and draping your arms around his shoulders, gently resting your chin on his shoulder. His hands reached up to wrap around your arms now resting against his chest, his thumbs rubbing soft circles onto your skin as he let out a heavy sigh, your presence flooding him with at least a little bit of calm amongst the chaos.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked, pecking a soft kiss onto the scratchy stubble of his cheek. 

“No, it’s just some paperwork shit.” 

“You sure?” 

“No, thank you though, Hermosa. I promise I’ll be done soon, baby.” 

Javi assumed his reply and gentle pat to your arm still wrapped around him would have enough to send you back out of his office so he could finish the rest of his work, but as your lips began to slowly travel from his cheek to down his neck and back up to nibble at his ear while your hands slid down his chest, he slowly realized that your offer to help had nothing to do with the actual work he needed to finish. 

“You sure there’s nothing? It sure seems like you could use some stress relief, Javi.” The tone of your voice shifting from sweet and innocent to low and sultry, the whisper of your words dancing in Javi’s ear and fingertips raking lower across his stomach and thighs making his breath hitch in the back of his throat as he realized what kind of “help” you were planning to offer him.

You smirked as you watched the bulge in his slacks begin to stiffen, your hand just grazing along the seam of his crotch while you kissed his neck, sucking at his pulse point and nipping at his skin. You could practically feel Javi melting into his chair at your touch, hoping that your plan would provide your husband with some much needed stress relief. 

“Pobrecito (Poor thing). You’re so tense. And so hard,” You laughed quietly to yourself, hand now cupping the full blown erection in his pants, “You gonna let me help you, baby? Help you get rid of some of this stress?” 

You began to swivel his desk chair to face you, Javi’s lips already parted for his heavy breaths as his hungry gaze met yours. Slowly, you climbed into his lap, your legs straddling over his hips as your hands ran up and down his chest, toying with the buttons of his dress shirt to expose his soft and tanned skin. 

Your mouths met in a hungry clash of tongues and teeth, capturing Javi’s muffled moans as you kissed him with an electric intensity that already had him needily bucking his hips up into you, desperate to ease how painfully hard he was from the few short moments since your proposition. 

Javi could barely find it in his mind to string together a coherent sentence, frantically nodding his head in agreement to your question between sloppy kisses, letting his hands roam down your back until they were grabbing your ass, kneading the plump flesh in his grasp. 

“Use your words, Javi. You want me to take care of you?” You cooed, grinding your hips into his lap as you watched his head tip back against the chair, jaw going slack and mind running blank as you rubbed against the straining fabric of his pants. 

“Fuck. P-Please, baby.” He moaned, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he gulped, trying to use any ounce of composure he could to somehow make words travel from his brain to his mouth. 

“Good boy.” You smirked, placing one last kiss on his lips before climbing off his lap to settle yourself between his legs on the floor, letting your fingers toy with the clasp of his belt buckle until it broke free.

“Fuck me.” Javi whispered to himself under his breath, watching you free his belt to carefully unzip his slacks, lifting his hips just enough to help you pull down his boxers to reveal his aching cock, tip already red and precum weeping from his slit. 

“Maybe if you behave and let me take care of you, then yes.” You teased before letting your kisses trail up his thighs, inching closer and closer to his length, only making him groan more. His hand ran through the dark locks of his thick brown hair, trying to center himself enough to keep from busting right then and there. 

Your hands ran up and down his thighs as you scooted closer to him, kisses trailing behind the gentle graze of your fingertips up towards his length. You couldn’t help but smirk at him with a devilish grin, seeing how needy and worked up he already was without you even touching him yet. 

Letting your lips inch closer and closer to the base of his cock, your hand wrapped carefully around him, your thumb swiping over his tip and collecting the precum that had been leaking from it, sending a shiver down his spine and a low groan in his chest.

Slowly, your kisses made their way up his length, your lips replacing your hand, tenderly licking at sucking at his tip, eliciting a low groan from deep within his chest. “Relax, Javi. Let me take care of you, okay?” You cooed, letting his cock tap against your tongue before licking a long strip from base to tip, the sensation making him shutter. 

“O-kay. Fuck- Yeah, okay, baby.” He managed to stammer out, looking down at you perched between his legs, beginning to sink your mouth down on his length, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, coming back off him with a pop and a satisfied smile, batting your lashes at him. 

Javi’s head hit the back of his chair as you began to repeat the motion, slowly taking the full length of his cock in and out of your mouth, letting his tip graze the back of your throat with each movement.

Letting your tongue drag up his shaft, your lips wrapped around his tip, sucking and flicking at his most sensitive spots. One hand was wrapped around his cock and working in tandem with your mouth, while the other grasped at his bare thigh, fingertips digging into his skin. 

You began to pick up your pace, shifting your hand to cup his balls so you could take him back into your throat, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

You couldn’t help but let a small smirk form between your lips as you worked at his cock, seeing and hearing just how wrecked Javi was from the short time that you had gone down on him, quiet whimpers and moans escaping from his lips, followed by muffled whispers of mixed expletives in Spanish and English to himself in any attempt to keep from spilling down your throat just as soon as you had started. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… F-fuck me. You feel- mierda- you feel so good, Hermosa.” Javi managed to stammer out between gasps, looking down at you nestled between his legs with a desperate expression painted across his face, already feeling his balls beginning to tense and stomach start to swirl. 

While you knew it wouldn’t take much more to get Javi to your intended point of stress relief, you selfishly couldn’t deny the fact that you were now also in need of your own relief, feeling the arousal that had been pooling in your underwear, coating the inside of your thighs and forcing you to squeeze them together in attempts to ease your growing ache. 

Pulling off Javi’s cock and planting a soft kiss to his tip, you peered up at him with a devilish grin, phrasing your next proposition as a question, even though you undoubtedly already knew what his answer would be. 

“You wanna cum down my throat, or cum inside me? You choose, handsome.” You cooed, fingertips grazing the inside of his thighs as your kisses trailed behind, teasing Javi to the point you were half convinced he might cum just like this, considering his half coherent babbles as he tried to string together words to form any sort of thought. 

“I-inside. Fuck- Let me cum inside you, please.” He stammered, nodding his head frantically in confirmation of what you already knew would be his answer. 

Gripping your hands around his thighs to push yourself up to stand, you reached down to tug the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, quickly followed by your bra, both now crumpled in a pile on the floor. 

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at how Javi was gawking at you and your now bare chest, eyes bulging out of his skull and jaw hitting the floor as if he was a goddamn cartoon and it was the first time he had seen you topless in his entire life. 

Your bottom half slowly followed the same fate as your top, pants and underwear shuffling down your hips and legs until they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you completely naked as you began to crawl back into Javi’s lap. 

You let your legs straddle over his hips, your cunt ghosting over his cock as you placed your hands on his stomach, letting them slide up his chest until they were buried in the thick locks of his dark hair, gripping and tugging his curls while your mouth engulfed his in an electric kiss. 

A soft moan rumbled in your chest as his firm grasp found a home on your hips, his fingers digging into the meat of your stomach, holding on for dear life while he felt you hovering over his length. 

“Please, Hermosa. I need to feel you, baby.” He whispered into your ear, now all but begging for you to sink down onto his cock and let himself get lost in the mesmerizing warmth and wetness of you. 

Reaching below you, you wrapped your hand around his cock, positioning it beneath you to lower yourself down, whimpering at the sweet stretch and sting of his girth, letting his tip kiss your cervix as he filled you with every inch of himself that you could take. For as many times as you had found yourself in this position, you were convinced that you would never get over just how full you felt with Javi inside you, and how breathtakingly incredible it felt. 

Cupping Javi’s strong jaw in your hands, your forehead rested against his as you let your hips start to grind into his, long and languid circles of your lower half, rolling back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. 

“Fuck me. Holy fuck.” Javi groaned, his hands snaking up your front to grab your breasts, kneading the soft flesh greedily in his hands. His fingers reached for your pebbled nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, the new sensation sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. 

That, combined with the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously on your clit and the way Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot was already making you see stars, vision going white and brain going blank from just how good he felt buried inside you.

Instinctively, you rocked your hips faster, feeling an all too familiar tingle begin to build at the base of your spine. Almost as if Javi could sense the way your cunt was starting to clench around his length, he couldn’t help but buck his hips up into yours, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, the two of you both teetering on the brink of collapse to chase your own highs. 

“You feel, oh shit- you feel so good, Javi. Feel so good inside me. I’m close, baby.” You whimpered, burying your hands in the sweat curled hairs at the nape of his neck, lost in your own pleasure as your stomach swirled faster and faster with arousal. 

You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you and nearly incomprehensible babbles were all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. 

“Yeah? F-fuck, I love being inside you. So fucking wet and tight, holy fuck.” 

You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, moaning as you buried your head in the crook of his shoulder, fingernails digging crescent moons into his skin as you braced yourself for the wave that was about to crash through you. 

 “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Gonna cum so deep inside this tight little pussy.” Javi reached down so the pads of his fingers rubbed along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckkkkkkkk!” You cried out as you felt your orgasm pulse through you, pleasure shooting through your body as you came, clamping down around Javi’s cock and gushing with your arousal, your body melting limp into his as he followed suite. 

“That’s it, baby. I’m gonna- fuck- g-gonna cum too. Fuck me, gonna fill you so full of me you’re- oh shit- gonna be dripping out of me f-for da- Oh fuckkkkkk-” With a final stutter of his hips, Javi thrust up into you, letting the warm rush of his spend coat your walls, milking himself of every last drop before carefully pulling out, letting the rhythmic breathing of your chests rising and falling sync together. 

“Holy fuck.” Javi sighed, kissing your bare shoulder before letting his plush lips peck across your neck and jawline before meeting yours. “I think it worked.” 

“Think what worked?” You asked, still trying to come to in your blissed out state, gently combing your fingers through the sweat ridden curls of Javi’s hair, giggling as he knowingly ghosted his fingers across your stomach, smiling to himself at your ticklish laughter. 

“The stress relief. God, I love you. I’ll never know what the fuck I ever did to deserve you, but I won’t question it. Thank you, baby.” Javi grinned, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, leaving his other arm to wrap around your waist and pull him closer to his chest. 

“I love you, too, Jav. Glad I could help. Hopefully this was enough motivation to get you through the rest of your work.” 

As you started to scoot yourself off Javi’s lap to clean up the mess of arousal, clothes, and a few scattered papers you had left in your wake, you were taken aback to feel his grip tighten around you, holding you in place. 

“It’s gonna be a long night, because I’m not even close to being done.” Javi smirked, his tongue darting between his lips as his eyes darkened with a hungry gaze. 

“Then you need to let me get off you, you goofball. Last time I checked, your naked wife sitting on your lap isn’t helping anyone to get paperwork done.” You teased, playfully crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head at Javi in a mix of sass and confusion until a shriek of surprise escaped from your chest as Javi stood up to set you on top of his desk, caging his broad body over yours. 

“Oh I’m done with all of this shit,” He paused, gesturing to his desk before letting his kisses lazily trail down your body until he was on his knees with your legs draped over his shoulders, spreading them open to reveal the swollen and glistening mess still between your thighs, “but there’s not a chance in hell I’m done with you.” 

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @purpleprincess75 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[bonniethebookbunny]

Stack x black!reader

Reader works as a translator for the Italians in Chicago.

I saw post on here theorizing that Smoke and Stack pretend to be one person in order to fool the I wish and the Italians based off how they dress. I like that idea a lot but not for this little blurb.

The Smokestack twins meet with a member of the Italian organization on a weekly basis during the first couple of years working for them.

The Italians have translators & interpreters in all races because it loosens the person they're dealing with. You were hired by the Italians because you were black and and spoke Italian. You didn't want any trouble but the pay was good and gave you some protection.

When you met the twin for the first time you breath catches. They ooze danger and paired with their looks you're drawn to them. But because of your job you keep your head down and refrain from seeking them out. You don't want any trouble.

After weeks of translating contracts, orders, plans and more for and during these meetings you've noticed a bit more about the twins. Smoke is was level headed and even though he took charge more often he was ... withdrawn. You'd once seen him on your block, watching some kids run around. The grief pouring off of him was intense. You resolved not to touch that with a ten foot pole.

Stack on the other hand was like a root fire. Cool and collected on the outside with sarcasm and snappish comments hinting and the raging fire underneath.

You'd seen him around with of your neighbors late at night or early in the evening. You were slightly tempted but the rare fights you'd barely glimpse but hear all about the next morning gave you pause.

Almost a year after the twins came to your side of Chicago they were steadily amongst some of the Don's more trusted associates. Your were asked to attend a dinner party for the associates and the twins were attending. After a night of sticking to the shadows you notice Stack staring at you from across the room. When your eyes meet your face feels like it's on fure but you can't look away. He drains his drinking before walking towards you and you swallow hard.

Any chance of you slipping under his notice just went up in flames.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

proclivity - part two - the punisher

✯ pairing:

ex!bff!rafe cameron x diabetic!kook!fem!reader

✯ summary:

at one point in time rafe was your best friend. can summer romance erase all the damage he's done?

✯ [4.1k] warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, heartbreak, diabetes lingo, injury, ghosting, fluff and fear, domestic violence (not rafe), mean!ex!jj etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) trying out a new format with this post, hope you like it!

You wake again, tangled in your pink satin sheets, legs slick with sweat from your incessant tossing and turning. The mattress is worn in. Well, for a kook it is. It was once pristine, you could’ve been compared to the princess and the pea now as it made slumber hard and your muscles ache. Though, you weren’t sure if you could blame it on the mattress or the sickness that lingered within your body. Your reality quickly crashes down around you and it looms like a sleep-paralysis demon in the corner of your room; lurking, waiting for the perfect time to pounce and grab you by the throat. You imagine that the pounce isn’t what’s the most terrifying part of it – no it’s the way it grabs your throat, the way you scream but there’s no sound, nothing will come out. That’s dramatic – the analogy, you know it is. But, you can’t stop yourself from wondering why in the fuck Rafe motherfucking Cameron was defending you against your ex-boyfriend a mere ten hours prior. You can’t stop yourself from wondering why after years of radio silence would Rafe have come to your defense. You can’t stop yourself from creating the comparison between the way the ache of his memory, his touch washes over you – chokes you the way demon does. You were an old friend, that had to be what it was – maybe the nostalgia got to him – yeah, that’s it. He doesn’t care, he hasn’t cared for a long time; maybe he never did at all. That’s the only option that makes sense. You quickly throw your blankets off of you as your phone chimes. You find yourself hoping it's Rafe, which is odd, you haven’t hoped that in years. The sting of his absence has truly never ceased the way you had originally hoped that it would. You swallow the disappointment feverishly as you realize it's one of your other favorite Cameron’s – Sarah Elizabeth. She is the only one of the pogues that you are still currently speaking to because she swears up and down that she didn’t know about JJ’s indiscretions. She’s also more kook than pogue and you’re sure maybe she always will be. You trust her – you have to – she’s never lied to you in thirteen years, not that you’re aware of anyway. She’s been begging you to come hangout for weeks and you had to bluntly tell her that if any of the pogues were invited you would not be joining, under any circumstances whatsoever. You look at your messages finally as you force yourself to turn your thoughts off. 

sarah elizabeth: can you please do me a favor? 

You reply, sarcasm oozing from every letter typed out. 

does the great sarah cameron need me? What for?? 

You wait, the three bubbles popping up quickly, bobbing up and down as she thinks of a way to frame the favor you need her for. You smirk as her reply comes through. 

sarah elizabeth: don’t be a dickhead. c’mon, pretty please?? 

You quickly type back. 

depends what it is, princess. 

Your tone is cheeky, yet playful. This – she can work with. That’s what she thinks as she presses send again. 

sarah elizabeth: be my plus one on The Druthers today. No pogues. No rafe. Pretty please. 

You roll your eyes, but quickly agree. You know you can’t keep her waiting forever. 

pick me up in five. You owe me btw. 

—

Your feet strut down the dock loudly, padding after Sarah. She’s evergreen – she always has been, though you don’t know evergreen is the right use of wordage. She’s lively and bright like golden hour at the beach or the cotton candy skies you love to see above the water in the summer. She’s bold and audacious and you love her more than anyone. She turns from her jog, looking back at you as she giggles. She reaches back to you, grabbing your hand and you run with her for a moment. She looks back again, eyes full of love. The moment ends abruptly as she rushes into none other than her brother. You gasp – surprised. Sarah is too, her face quickly falls and she becomes angry as she hits his rock-hard abs with her tinier frame. If you were any more of a loser, you’d probably be drooling at the sight of him, tan-skin glistening in the sun. His abs are rock-hard, you notate on the invisible legal pad in your brain, a pen full of imaginary ink that is definitely leaking all over your hands. Even your imaginary self – the one in your brain – is a clutz around him. You internally groan. His jaw is set with annoyance as his sister rudely runs into him. However, the anger is quickly forgotten as he looks up and your eyes meet. Even from a good distance away, you are lost in the pool of his eyes. They are blue with hues of green and white in places; another reason why he is truly a sight for sore eyes. His demeanor instantly changes, he swallows thickly and Sarah brings the attention back to herself, like she always does. 

“What aren’t you going to say hi?”

She smirks, winking at him. 

“Uh, Yeah – hi, y/n. I’m sorry for the surprised face, I just didn’t know you’d be here.” 

You don’t say anything. Instead, opting for a simple head nod. 

“Everybody on!” 

Ward calls out, waving the three of you in. You walk ahead of Sarah, eager to get away from the both of them. 

“Be nice to her. I’ve been begging her to get out of the house for weeks, okay? Don’t ruin this. Just be nice and let her have a good day.” 

He sheepishly nodded his head. 

“Y-Yeah, okay. I promise not to be an asshole.” 

She smiles up at him in return. She knows he’s worked hard over the last eight months and he is a better man than before. So leans up and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I know, buddy.” 

—

Sarah asking you out for a day on The Druthers wasn’t completely unorthodox. You’d spent many summers where the only thing the two of you cared about was soaking in sun and letting the ocean’s salty kiss envelope you. There wasn’t anything wrong with that – especially if it was just going to be the two of you (no pogues). It’s currently the middle of June and you had a day off, so you thought, ‘Why not?’ There’s truly nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, even though you were surprised by the presence of Rafe and then John B showing up just as Ward was ready to set sail. The latter really fucking annoyed you, because well – Sarah had said no pogues and you were still feeling rather betrayed by all of them – John B included. You had agreed reluctantly to begin with and now – you were living in a nightmare; sandwiched between Rafe and Wheezie in 100 degree weather. If you could turn back time, if you could be someone else, someone with no history with him, with no longing for him to return to you like a phoenix, this would be your dream; his beefy arms pressed against yours.You weren’t sure why Sarah had even invited you now, because she was attached to John B’s hip and you could only watch in horror as they licked each other’s faces off right in front of everyone. Long forgotten was the ghost of who you’d met when you were seven, who she used to be; a princess in pigtails, and to think you considered her more kook than pogue just a few hours earlier. Rafe watched as you grimaced, looking on at them. He laughed, remembering your distaste for public affection, not just for Sarah and John B’s. You locked eyes with him and a grin made its way across your lips. It felt like you could look into his blue orbs forever. Forever was a strong word, since forever ended the second he looked away. This was all you got from him now, stolen glances and grins with no words to follow. It always left you wanting more. You immediately hated yourself for falling for his shit. You knew he didn’t mean it. It was so easy – falling back into it. 

You could feel the sweat pouring down your back right as Ward anchored the boat and decided it was time for a swim, so you got up, pulling your t-shirt off to reveal the gorgeous white one piece you had opted to wear so Rafe wouldn’t notice the scars on your stomach from your pump. You had taken the pump off and set a timer for one hour to remind yourself to put it back on after you were done swimming. Rafe still didn’t know about your illness and you wanted to keep it that way. He admired your body and the slender bathing suit that covered it, thinking about how in the world someone could be that beautiful. He looked on in awe as he watched you run and dive into the water and chuckled when the after effects of your splash came onto the boat to drench Sarah and John B. 

“Seriously?!” 

Sarah called out, shaking the water off of her like a wet dog. 

“Oops!”

You responded, sending Rafe into a fit of laughter. You swam for about 30 minutes before Rose and Ward called everybody for lunch below the cabin. 

“Y/N, come in. It’s time to eat.” 

Rafe called to you. You swam back to the boat, climbing up the ladder and Rafe dropped his hand down for you to grab, which you did, and he pulled you up. 

“You, you-uh look really pretty today.” 

He whispered. You couldn’t remember the last time you held his hand or felt the rough texture of the pads of his fingers wrapped around yours. It felt like ages. You almost fell for it again, but you quickly pulled your hand from his grasp; it felt like you had been scalded by a hot burner. 

“Don’t do that.” 

You bit out. 

“Do what?” 

He questioned puzzledly. 

“You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing!” 

You growled. 

“Just – just don’t, okay?” 

You replied, voice falling flat as the words cut through your core like a knife. You wanted to say yes, to say thank you, to say you too, but you knew how it ended. 

“Y/N, come join us!”

Ward spoke cheerily. 

“Just a sec, gonna sneak away to the bathroom.” 

You smiled in his direction and Rafe watched you intently, wondering how in the hell he was supposed to begin to fix anything when you so clearly wanted him dead. 

��

The next time you saw Rafe Cameron was at the boneyard, which you still loathed going to out of fear of running into JJ or any of the other Pogues. Things hadn’t ended well between the six of you, being that everyone knew about JJ and Kiara’s little Pogue affair and Sarah was the only one who had the decency to tell you the truth. You had cut ties with all of them. But, Sarah was still your friend and she begged you, for the second time, on this particular Friday to come out and enjoy yourself. So, you agreed. After an early morning shift at the island club, you spent time agonizing over what to wear in Sarah’s bedroom. Luckily, Rafe wasn’t home, and you decided on a pair of high waisted shorts and a crop top that went right above the waistline of your jean shorts. You adorned your neck with a rainbow colored beaded choker that Rafe had given you in the sixth grade, it was still your favorite necklace even though you knew you weren't his favorite girl anymore. 

You had mostly stayed away from the Boneyard since Rafe had relinquished his best friend duties, partly because of him, but mostly because the week after you and Rafe called it quits you got really really sick, had a seizure, and found out you had type one diabetes. You were angry with Rafe after that because you really, really needed your best friend. Had it not been for Topper and Sarah, you would’ve had to walk through it completely alone and you didn’t wish that on your worst enemy. 

As you and Sarah made your way on to the beach, she immediately locked eyes with John B and quickly disappeared. Fuck John B and his honey-colored eyes and the way they had a hold on her. You knew this was going to happen and you don’t know why you had convinced yourself any differently. You sighed heavily and made your way over to the Keg which was being run by Topper. 

“Hey, Top.”

You smiled kindly at him. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

He questioned, confusedly. He knew this hadn’t been your scene for a long time now. Though, that didn’t mean that he was unhappy to see you. 

“Sarah dragged me out of the house. Where are the other two stooges?” 

You questioned with a laugh.

“Around here somewhere, I think Rafe is upstairs with a girl or something.” 

He spoke without thinking and sighed when he watched your face fall. 

“Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear that shit.” 

He regretted his words immediately, knowing the hold Rafe had over you.

“It’s okay, Top. You don’t have to protect me from who he is.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Just make sure I don’t leave him another embarrassing voicemail at the end of the night, okay?” 

You meant it as a joke, really. But, Topper did not think it was funny at all. 

“Wait, you’re not drinking are you?” 

His brow furrowed in confusion, knowing that any alcohol you ingested would drop your sugar levels significantly. 

“Don’t worry, dad. I’m only going to have one or two.” 

You replied, sarcasm on your tongue. 

“Please, no more than that. You remember last time?”

He asked bluntly. 

“Yeah, Top. I remember.” 

How could you forget?

You sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time and watched as Topper poured the beer into the red solo cup in his hand. The ‘last time’ Top was referring to was the night you had left Rafe the embarrassingly honest voicemail about how much you missed him. A voicemail he never returned. You had a seizure the following day, blowing off steam at the gold course with Topper and of course, Topper was there to pick up the pieces, like he always was. But, you wished it was Rafe. 

“Here, stay close by. Please.” 

He pleaded, handing you the cup of beer.

“I’ll keep you company until he shows back up.” 

You joked, sending him a wink and nudging his elbow with yours. After a few minutes of catching Top up on the highs and lows of your current life events, you caught Rafe out of the corner of your eye, making his way down to where you and Topper were with Kelce right behind him. 

“Well, well, well, Y/N, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Kelce spoke in a jokingly sexy voice. He had always flirted with you and it had always pissed Rafe off, though you never understood why. Kelce was harmless and revolting; way too much of a ladies man for your pleasure. 

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

His tone came out gruff and mean, and your eyes went to your feet again, as you recognized the voice of your ex-boyfriend. You slowly turned your head to see Kiara with her arm wrapped around JJ’s bicep, a snarl ever present on her face. Rafe watched your eyes intently, the sadness and anger that lingered in them sent him into protective mode once again. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

You stammered. 

“What are you gonna drink yourself to death over him?” 

Kiara interjected, pointing to your drink, her voice sinister, as she mocked you and your health condition. 

Rafe looked on in confusion, wondering what it was that she was referring to - the break up or something more? It felt like he was missing a key piece of information. The Y/N that he knew didn’t have a problem downing any drinks. Topper was quick to jump in and diffuse the situation before your life’s biggest secret was revealed in front of the one person you didn’t want to know. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” 

Topper warned, a growl on his lips.

“No, it’s not. She has diabetes, I mean Jesus Christ, you guys gonna let her get killed just because she’s sad?” 

JJ asked incredulously. If you were a bystander, you might think he gave a shit about you, but you know he doesn’t. He’s telling Rafe that you’re sick. He’s doing it to be a cunt, because he knows you’ve kept it from him since finding out. 

“You’re a cunt, JJ.” 

You retorted, aggresively. 

“Woah – big words for a big ol’ girl, huh?” 

He piped up, hinting toward your weight which was one of your biggest insecurities since being diagnosed. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

Rafe spoke up, growling in JJ’s direction before grabbing the collar of his shirt pushing him into the sand. 

“What’s with defending her honor, Rafe? I mean twice in a week, you wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea, now would you?” 

JJ’s words are slimy – you wonder how you ever loved him as he resembles lord voldemort to you now. 

“And what idea would that be, Maybank?” 

He spits out in feverish anger. 

“I don’t know – that you give a shit about her?” 

He questions sarcastically. 

“That’s not the wrong idea – it’s the truth.” 

Suddenly, you can’t take it anymore. You don’t want to hear it from either one of these assholes. So you run away – as fast as you can. 

When Rafe had made it back to the party, after beating JJ into oblivion – his favorite activity this week, his eyes frantically searching for your slender form, Topper informed him you went off by yourself toward the water. He made his way down to where he thought you’d be and there you were, sitting on a piece of driftwood, your knees tucked into your body and your arms wrapped around them. It was almost as if you were giving yourself a hug. Rafe smiled at the sight. 

“Y/N.”

He called out.

“Oh, what, Rafe?”

You replied, questioning in your voice, wondering what the hell he was doing even talking to you. 

“Why’d you leave the party?”

He asked, innocently, even though he already knew the answer because he knew you like the back of his hand. 

“I’m just embarrassed – why do you care so much all the sudden, huh?” 

You chuckled angrily, trying to keep it as civil as possible so Rafe wouldn’t make fun of you for it later with a group of guys on the golf course. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed that Maybank is a dick. He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Yeah and what – you think you do? Cause from where I’m sitting, that’s not the case.” 

You growled. He was taken aback at first, but slowly began to nod his head with tears in his eyes. Although you weren’t friends anymore, you constantly analyzed his features, knowing what each grimace or grin meant. You hadn’t meant to make him sad, that wasn’t the point. 

“Do you not want me to talk to you?”

His voice grew quiet and feeble. 

“Rafe, I’ve wanted you to say anything to me for the last two years that wasn’t an insult or cutting me down. I mean we were best friends for god sakes and y-you just left me behind.” 

The tears clouded your vision, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting them fall. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was crying, hot tears leaked out of his eyes and fell onto his cheeks and before you could look up at him, he pulled you in. You fought the hug at first, but it just felt so good and warm and right. Eventually, you melted into his touch, resting your head on his chest. You hadn’t had one of these hugs in so long, it almost felt like it wasn’t real. These hugs, his hugs, could cure disease, they could put all your broken parts back together. Fuck JJ Maybank, this is Rafe Goddamn Cameron and you are so Goddamn thankful. 

“What’s that?”

Rafe motioned to the bulge sticking out from under your shirt as he pulled away from the hug the two of you shared. You looked up at his piercing blue eyes and decided enough was enough and this moment with him shouldn’t be wasted. It’s time to tell him the truth.

“It’s an insulin pump.” 

You mutter.

“Why do you need an insulin pump? You have diabetes, he wasn’t lying?”

Rafe looked confused, you had been friends for so long and he had never noticed it before. 

“I-I have diabetes, type 1. He wasn’t lying.” 

You reply.

“What? Since when?” 

He looked bewildered, like he didn’t know what to think or say.

“Since freshman year.” 

Your voice is small as you tell him your reality of the last two years. 

“Is that why you stopped showing up to parties?”

He asks, earnestly. You can't remember the last time you saw him look like that. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean you stopped talking to me and I didn’t have a reason to come around anymore. Plus, I can’t have a lot of alcohol. It just makes my sugar low, which makes me sick.” 

You replied, looking down at your feet, embarassed, fully expecting him to make a joke about it or say something awful. That was his prerogative. But he didn’t. He was concerned, scared, confused, even, as he asked you about your disability. 

“How did you find out?” 

He asks. 

“The week after you stopped talking to me I got really really sick and I had a seizure. Almost didn’t make it and that’s when they found it. Topper was the only person who knew.” 

You admitted. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Topper tell me?!” 

He’s borderline hysteric as he realizes what he’s done, how he’d left you alone when you needed him the most. 

“I begged him not to. I knew if you found out you’d wanna talk and I wanted you to do that under your own pretenses not out of obligation.” 

Your words gut him and he knows he deserves far worse than this feels. 

“Can you let me back in? I mean – not now, or right away, but can you let me show i’ve changed, can you allow me to do that? Like old times.”

He questions, scared as he awaits your reply. 

“It’ll never be like old times again.” 

You reply bluntly. His Adam's apple bobs up and down and he knows you’re right, that you’re not saying this to hurt him – not you. You wouldn’t. You’re saying it because it’s the truth. 

“Understood.” 

He finally whispers. He rubs his palms against his knees, they are sweaty. It’s a sign – a tell before he goes into a full blown anxiety attack and you have to steer this conversation in another direction before he’s hyperventilating beside you – like old times. 

“Look, I’ll give this a shot – this friends bullshit, trial basis kind of vibes. If you prove me wrong and don’t end up being a piece of shit after all, we can extend our contract.” 

You reply with a half-witted smirk. 

“You mean that?” 

He asks hopefully. You almost yell at him again, but you don’t want to be cruel. 

“Sure. We can try. Meet me at our old spot tomorrow and we can try to figure this shit out. But, I’m gonna need some answers from you, Rafe. I mean it.” 

You reply sternly. He rises, helping you up to your feet again. 

“Can I hug you? O-Or walk you home, maybe? O-Or drive you, I have my truck – it’s here.” 

He struggles as he does his best to offer you support, that’s what friends are supposed to do. At Least that’s what he used to do for you. 

“Don’t push it okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

You replied and for the first time in any length of time that he can remember, he’s left wanting more and not just more, he’s a guy that has plenty, plenty of everything. But, he’s lacking in you and the absence stings just as bad as the day he left. He hopes that you'll accept his reasoning, his need to become better for you. He hopes you won’t leave him in return. 

taglist:

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch

[simphornies]

Glitchy [ Vox x F!Reader ] pt. 2 (NSFW)

A/N: Was not expecting the attention the last one got. I already had a part 2 in my head as soon as I posted it. Sorry if the writing is off! I'm a bit rusty. Enjoy!

MINORS DNI

Warnings: smut, teasing, light bondage(?), oral, creampie

Velvette's fashion show was ongoing. She somehow set you up to model one of her latest pieces as the grand finale. You liked to dress up but being in front of crowds that didn't involve killing made you nervous. "C'mon bitch! Are you ready?" She switches up your hair into a fitting updo, showing off your TV wire inspired earrings. "Oh Vox is going to love this one." To be honest, you did want to tease Vox a little bit to get back at him for spying on you. Valentino sneaked you into his office while he was asleep at his desk and you saw that most of the cameras were paused on you. "Did you really put on a whole show to fuck with him?" You asked, straightening out the skirt she had you put on, "And does this outfit have to be this short. You know I don't like showing off too much skin. Gives too much to look at." Your statement made Velvette and Valentino laugh, "Babe, with a body like that you should be showing off. It's almost a crime to keep them hidden." Val slaps your ass and pushed you towards the curtain, "You're almost up, knock Vox dead. Do that move I showed you too."

You rolled your eyes at them and walked away. Val looks down at Velvette, "$100 bucks if he short-circuits." She grinned, "$100 if he gets up and they fuck later." The two shook on their deal and walked around to get to their seats.

Vox didn't typically sit for Velvette's shows but you had asked him to show up because of a piece you said you wanted him to see. The two other Vees sit next to him, "You look like you're having the time of your life, Vox." Val teased. "Fuck off, if Y/N didn't ask me to be here, I wouldn't be. Where is she anyways? I would expect her to be here considering she wants me to see this piece so bad." Velvette gasps, "Wow. So you wouldn't even show up to my show if I told you to come? I'm so hurt." Her words filled with sarcasm. "Shut up. It's almost time for her part."

Vox blinked, "What? What do you mean he-" Her finger covered his mouth and Val moved his head to look at the stage, blowing out some smoke for "effect" as you make your way down the catwalk.

You donned a gorgeous off shoulder top that showed too much, or too little as Val would say, of your cleavage. A skin tight skirt that rode up a little bit as you walked the catwalk hugged your hips. Above your skirt, the strings of your thong (that Velvette insisted you wore) peeked over adding a little extra flair. And the best part? You were of course in Vox's signature colors. You did a spin showing off the outfit and scanned the crowd. Your eyes locked with Vox's and you smirked as you thought about what Val taught you hours before. You bent over in his direction, one hand on your knee and one hand on your hip. You spun on your red bottom heels and posed one last time for the cameras, looking at Vox before leaving him with a wink. You looked away as soon as you see his screen glitch, red liquid oozing from the side of his mouth.

After the show, you put on a mesh coat. Velvette came running at you with a hug, "You did wonderful! I knew you could nail that. Have you seen the ratings?" She whipped out her phone with an article raving about the latest show with you front and center of the pictures, "The people love you! And the sales are coming in." You smiled, happy that you impressed the fashion critic herself. "Glad I could make you proud, Velv." Claps came from behind you and you turn to see Valentino and Vox, walking side by side. "Amazing work, sweetie. You nailed the tit show." He smiled, giving you a hug as well. "Thanks Val. I would never have done that move if you didn't teach me the art of captivating an audience with my tits. You're the master." You elbowed the tall sex demon. "So, did you like the show Vox?" You looked up at him, trying to make the eye contact that he wasn't reciprocating. "Come on~ Did my tits glitch you out." You teased. He cleared his throat, finally making eye contact with you with his signature smile. "I already knew you were hot, baby. I love the color combo." He gives you a hug, whispering into your ear, "Did you do that on purpose to fuck with me?" "Pfff. Me? Why would I ever do such a thing?" You spin around and pulled Velvette close to you, arm over her shoulder, "Besides, I'm not the fashion genius here. She is." Velvette gave him a teasing look and laughed, "Oh I would never! You're reading too much into it. Now shoo, Y/N and I have an afterparty to go to!"

You weren't a fan of parties but Velvette insisted you come. Well, she bribed you with some drinks. You grab a glass of wine and walked out of the club to get a breath of fresh air. As you scrolled through your phone, you see from the corner of your eye a familiar red figure walking towards you. It was the radio demon himself, Alastor. "Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite the pleasure!" He grabs your hand to shake it, "I've seen your influence around town from the latest fashion show put on by the overlord Velvette and might I say you're quite the stunning lady." He plants a kiss on the back of your hand. You had your guards up, this was Alastor. The demon that brought down overlords as soon as he manifested into hell. What the fuck could he want from you? "Thank you for the praise." You say as you pull your hand away from him, "What can I do for you, Alastor sir?" You back up slightly, taking steps back towards the entrance of the club hoping Velvette could see the predicament you're in. "Nothing too much. I just have a couple of...questions for you, my dear!" He grins menacingly, "You seem to be in close quarters with Vox, would you like to make a deal?" You scoff, "A deal? I'm not stupid. I'm not making a deal with you. What do you want?" "Would you like to go on a little outing with me?" "A what." "An outing! A gorgeous doll such as yourself must be exhausted having to deal with that annoyingly loud picture show." He was talking about Vox, "I could show you a better time. I can give you aid taking down all those who you wish if you permit me." Before you could answer, a glowing blue circle appears at your feet plunging you down to hell knows where. You land in Vox's lap, his face glitching with rage. "That fucker--Thank the seven rings I was watching around the club you were at." "Vox I-" "That little prick! I'll show him he shouldn't mess around with the Vees! That motherfucker-" "Vox." "-is lucky I wasn't there!" He chuckles, his one eye going crazy at the thought of Alastor hurting you. "Vox!" You yell, finally getting his attention. He seemed to have forgotten you were still in his lap in his fit of rage. He looks down at you, blushing a bit as you were still in the clothes from the fashion show. "Can you let me down please. Your little desk is cramped and I can't get myself off without getting tangled in your cords." Vox, in a panic, backs his chair up, a cord getting caught in one of the wheels and throwing you both back. He catches your head with his hand as to not hurt it. "Fuck. My bad. I was ju-" He cuts himself off noticing the position you're both in and the state of your clothes. He was on top of you and your top got yanked down a bit which meant your tits are now in full view. Not to mention the fact that you somehow got wrapped up in his cables. Him glitching at the sight of you made you smirk, "You like what you see? Or are you too angry at the radio demon talking to me to notice anything?" You cockily said before laughing, pulling your top up to put your tits away, "Now can you help me out of your cables, please?" Vox didn't move. He was frozen. You thought that maybe he short circuited. "Hello? Vox?" You place your hand on his screen, trying to knock him out of his daze, "Vox are you in the-" Before you could say another word he pins your wrist down above your head as he crashes his lips on yours. You melt against his, returning his affection. You taste a faint hint of mint on his tongue as he wraps it around yours, almost battling for a spot in your mouth.

When he pulls away, you were out of breath. You watch his eyes scan your body and take in the sight. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself to you. You just look...so hot right now." He says, taking his hand off of your wrists and trying to back up to free you. Your eyes wander and notice the bulge in his pants. A dirty thought crossing your mind. "If I look so hot, why don't you do something about it." You smirk up at him, gently guiding your knee over his bulge, sending shivers down his spine. "I'm stuck Vox, helpless under you. You really going to throw this golden opportunity away for both of us?" You teased. Vox composes himself and lets out a low chuckle, the antenna on his head letting out some sparks. "You've been driving me insane all day, babe." He speaks in a low tone, his voice turning you on. You feel around above you and grab the nearest cables and tangle your wrists in it, "Show me what you can do, Vox."

He didn't hesitate to undo his bowtie. He took off your top, tossing them to the side before lifting up your skirt. He was taken aback at the thongs you were wearing, they matched his shirt. "Did Velvette put this one on you too?" He asks as he caresses your inner thigh. You purr at his touch, "Mmm...No. Those ones are mine. I got them after your confession~" "You know how to drive me crazy." He slides your thongs off and lightly drags his finger over your slit, making you shiver in excitement. "Now it's my turn to drive you crazy." His blue tongue sticks out of his screen and goes straight into eating you out, relishing your taste. You suppress your moans as to not let anybody else hear. "Be loud, this room is soundproof."

His tongue enters you and swirls around, driving you as crazy as you've been driving him. You squirm in pleasure as the overlord feasts upon you, licking up all the juices. You feel a knot forming in your stomach, your face flushing in delight, "Ah. V-Vox." You moan out, "I-I'm gonna-" He doesn't stop one bit, if anything it seems like he sped up. The knot grew tighter and tighter until you came all over his face. He pulls away, grinning as he looks at your shaking body.

"Let's go somewhere, more comfortable for you." He untangles you with ease, besides your wrists, and teleports the two of you into his already locked bedroom. He plops you down on the bed before taking his pants off, his cock leaking pre-cum. You drool at the sight of his length, "Come here." You say, still a bit out of breath, as you get on your knees for him. "Giving me orders now?" He chuckles as he got closer to your face, his cock resting on your cheek, "Is this what you want, babe?" You look up at him with lust filled eyes before you take him into your mouth, tongue wrapping around his length as you your head up and down. He grabs your hair, making sure it stays out of your face as he looks down at you sucking him, "What a good girl," He purrs, caressing your cheek. You pick up your speed, eager to taste him. Vox grunts in pleasure, thrusting his hips as he pushed himself deeper into you, "Make sure you take every last drop." He grabs your head and starts fucking your face deeper as he gets closer. His cock twitched before letting a load down your throat. He pulls himself out of you, your lips making a pop as he did. You open your mouth to show him what was left, closing it to swallow and opening it back up again to show him that you didn't leave a single drop. He puts his hand under your chin, "Now ass up, sweetheart." You wasted no second getting into position for him. You've been dying to take his cock ever since he confessed to you. Ever since you found out he watched you on his screens. Ever since you laid eyes on him actually. "You're drenched, babe." He grins as he rubs his tip at your entrance, "Beg." You whine and wiggle your hips, trying to see if you can slide him in yourself. He grabbed your hips firmly, slapping your ass, "I said, BEG." he demanded. "Please Vox." "Please what?" He teased his tip, pushing just a little bit in, "What do you want? Speak up." "Please fuck me senseless, Vox. Please." You pleaded in desperation. He grabs your hair, pulling your head up closer so he can whisper in your ear, "Good girl." God the way his voice changes sent shockwaves through out your body.

He enters you slowly, "I'm going to make your entire body glitch the way you made me glitch." He was relentless. Torturing you almost. He picked up his speed and started pounding into you. You moaned in delight, enjoying how rough he was with you. "Faster, please Vox." Your request filled with pleasure, "Vox. Pl-please!" He slaps your ass in response, letting go of your hair and holding your head down on the bed, "Since you asked so nicely." He kept himself at a quick pace, taking in the sight of you drooling on his sheets. He pulls out of you to flip you over, you were about to whine but him suddenly filling you back up again stopped that quick.

Your walls tightened around him, "You're so tight. Are you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" Your brain was turning into mush, rendering you unable to form a real response. The only sounds coming from your mouth were ineligible slurred words and moans. "I'm going to fill you up as deep as I can. I'm making you mine." He growls, pinning your tied wrists above your head. He plants on your chest before licking your exposed chest. He leaves hickies all over your chest, marking this night on your body for only him to see. You feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach again and you're positive he can feel it too. He grunts as he thrusted into you with reckless abandon, pounding you senseless into his mattress.

"V-Vox. Pl-please." He kisses you with as much passion as he could give as you cum around his cock, tightening your walls so much you squeeze him dry as he released his fluids deep into you. The electricity crackled as soon as he came before everything powered down around you. He pulls away from you, resting his head on your neck as he tried to catch his breath. You can see the light emitting from his face flickering different colors.

He pulls out of you, his cum flowing out. He grabs a towel to clean you off as well as he was able to before cleaning himself off. He unties your wrist before plopping down next to you. You nuzzle up next to him. The city lights turn back on and the light seeped into his room. He seems to have kept the lights off in the room. You feel his arm wrap around you. You look up at him, hand resting on his chest.

"Was the teasing worth it or what?" You asked, giggling a little bit. "Hell yeah it did. I'm so glad I sat through the whole show just for you." He sighs contently, pulling you closer to him. "Will you run this entire hell with me, dear?"

"Gladly, Vox."

Valentino groans as he sends over $100 to Velvette. "You of all people should know he wasn't going to be able to pussy out this time." She grins.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, the last straw, arguing, violence, Sexually Explicit Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (angry/rough PIV, fingering, degradation kink), memories of past CSA, self harm, Bucky really, really fucks up.

Word Count: 4k

Previously On...: Tony sent you a very expensive apology gift.

A/N: Ya’ll are getting this early! Just one thing to say:

I am so, so sorry.

Coincidentally, this is getting posted on the day I'll be coming home from NoLa, so I'll arrive just in time to hear you all say how much you now hate me. Yay. -_-

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, lost in the dark colors, the reflection of the moonlight over the water. The sound of the door opening broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see Bucky shuffle into the room. 

“Hey, sweets,” he said, toeing off his boots.

“Hey,” you said without emotion, turning your face back to  the painting.

“Whacha lookin’ at?” he asked, coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“Apology gift from Tony.”

“What’s he apologizing to you for?” God, you couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry at him.

“Calling out your unhealthy obsession with Jade in front of the team,” you said, voice flat. 

“I do not have an unhealthy obsession with Vix,” Bucky said, annoyance coloring his words. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on between the two of us before you start believing me.” 

“Maybe you should stop telling me there’s nothing and start actually acting like there’s nothing,” you said as you stood up. “Because honestly, I’m tired of hearing your empty words.” You began to walk away, but Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm.

“They aren’t empty, Pocket!” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it filled the room as if he’d shouted. “It fucking hurts like hell to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that oozed from your voice now. “Your feelings are hurt now, so that changes everything. Let me put aside the pain I’ve been dealing with for months to reassure you.” You yanked your hand free from his grasp. “I’m exhausted, Bucky. Nothing is getting better. In fact, things are getting worse, and I keep pretending that I can be okay with things, but you just keep picking her over me, time and time again. I don’t deserve that. Not from someone who’s supposed to love me.”

“Pick her over you? That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” he said, voice rising.

“Is it?” you asked him. You pointed to the corner where your overnight bags sat waiting for a trip you’d never take. “Is that bullshit, Bucky? Cause we were supposed to be in the Catskills right now, but because that fucking cunt came crying for you, you went running to her and left me sitting here, alone and forgotten. Again.”

“Pocket,” Bucky ran a hand over the back of his neck, a sure sign you were ruffling him. “She needed someone to support her. She’s not like you– she doesn’t–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Barnes!” you interrupted, shouting now. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m breaking up with you because of her and you still just stand there and defend her!”

Bucky’s face paled and his eyes went wide. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard him.

“I said ‘no,’” he said, his voice louder, but still soft. “You're not breakin' up with me. Doll, please. I need you. You said you were gonna fight for us, fight for me. That’s what you said!”

“I’m so tired of fighting for you when you’re off fighting for her! I can’t do this anymore, Bucky,” you practically sobbed. “You are fucking destroying me and feel like you just. don’t. care. I can’t just sit here and let it keep happening. You say you need me, but you’ve made it clear time and time again that you don’t give a shit about what I need. Every time I’ve asked you to put a boundary between you and Carthage, you’ve stomped right over it. And I can’t keep living like this. Yesterday was supposed to be a celebration of one of the greatest accomplishments of my career, and she ruined it.”

“It wasn’t her fault she got bad intel!” Bucky shouted.

“Could you just FUCKING STOP?!” you screamed. “Stop defending her! She either royally fucked up or she set them up on purpose! Those are the only two options! Either way, the entire thing was her fault. Rhodey is unconscious– almost died– because of her! She’s got you so wrapped around her fucking finger that you can’t even see it, and I am SO. GOD. DAMNED. OVER. IT! You promised me you’d make it up to me,” you continued shouting at him. “You fucking promised! But as soon as she bats her lashes, your promises don’t mean shit! You keep making excuses, you keep saying you’re sorry, but you keep doing the same fucking thing over and over again, and the only thing your actions are promising is that she means more to you than I do!”

“That’s not true!” he shouted back at you. “You mean more to me than anything!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!” you screamed, your voice going hoarse.

“I’ll fucking prove it to you!” He grabbed your elbows and pulled you to him, kissing you with such force it would have knocked you over if he hadn’t been holding you up. The moment he broke the kiss for air, you slapped him across the face. Only to immediately kiss him again.

Within seconds, you were ripping at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel one another, skin to skin, your tongues battling against each other as though whomever could dominate the kiss could win your fight. Bucky literally tore your shirt in half before you pushed him down onto your bed. Crawling on top of him, you scratched your nails down his chest, hard enough to draw blood.

Bucky hissed into your mouth, reaching down to yank off his pants and boxer briefs. You hastily pulled them down and off his legs before climbing back up to his mouth. Your kisses were passionate, angry and feral, each of you trying to prove a point to the other. 

You felt both of Bucky’s hands grasp the waistband of your jeans and rip them open, sending the button and zipper teeth flying. “Those were my favorite fucking jeans,” you warned.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, shoving a hand into your panties and finding your clit. You arched your back as he pinched and rolled it between his fingers, the aggression in his movements igniting your blood. You gasped as he shoved two fingers into you while simultaneously flipping you so you were now on your back and he loomed above you.

He pulled his hand from you, leaving you aching and empty. He kissed you as he divested you of what was left of your jeans and your panties. “Taste yourself,” he said, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them, savoring the tang of your essence on his skin. Bucky groaned at the sight before pulling his fingers out and kissing you again. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing at your breasts and roughly kneading the flesh. “Look at me, Pocket. You’re mine.” You turned your head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, but Bucky would have none of it. Gripping your chin tight enough to leave a bruise, he yanked your head back so you were looking him in the eye. “I said, you’re mine.” He entered you then, the force of it nearly splitting you in half. “You’re mine and I’m fucking yours. Forever.”

He pounded into you as if his very life depended on it, and you clutched at his shoulders for dear life. “God, yes, Bucky,” you cried, all your resolve finally leaving you as the pleasure rose within you. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Only mine. Only fucking mine!”

With a roar, Bucky picked up one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit you deeper as he drove into you. His thrusts were punishing, as though he were trying to see just how deep he could get himself inside of you before you actually broke in two.

"You like that?" he murmured as he rutted his hips into you.

"Fuck, yes, please, Bucky-- just like that," you moaned. He had you close. So, so close. "Keep going."

"Yeah, I thought so, you dirty slut," he grunted.

"What?" you asked, pulling your head back into the pillow so you could stare at him, wide-eyed as he continued to pound relentlessly into you. His words had taken you aback-- this was not something your loving boyfriend had ever said to you before. You dropped one leg from around his waist and tried to pull the other from his shoulder.

"Knew you loved taking my cock. God, you're such a filthy whore for me."

"Bucky, stop." You pushed gently against his chest, but he was already so far gone to his lust that he didn't seem to hear you.

"Such a good fucktoy for me," he grunted, his pace quickening as he neared his release. You felt your breath coming hard and fast now, but not from your impending climax, which had died with his words, but from an oncoming anxiety attack. “You goin’ dumb on me already, like a good little cockslut?”

Flashes of your miserable childhood flickered through your head, the way Darren would call you his "good little money-making whore" after you'd been raped by yet another of his clients, or when he decided to violate you himself, calling you his own personal slut, his special fuck toy.

"Bucky," you shouted, punching him with your fists, desperate now to get him off you, out of you. "Stop! Get off of me! GET OFF OF ME!" You screamed, thrashing at him. You saw the moment your words registered-- his eyes lost their haze of lust and his hips stopped pumping into you.

"Doll?" he asked, looking down on you in confusion. "What's wr--"

"Get off me, get off me, get off me!" you shrieked as you rolled out from under him, your entire body suddenly on fire with shame and disgust. The second your feet hit your bedroom floor, you were reaching for your silk robe, wrapping yourself in it as though the thin fabric could protect you from his words. From him.

"Pocket," Bucky watched your movements, his eyes betraying his bewilderment at your actions. "What's going on? What did I do?"

"Why would you call me that?" you asked, your words coming out in between your desperate gasps for air. "Why would you say those things?"

Bucky sat up, reaching for you, but you moved away from him. "Baby, what things? What did I s--" Realization dawned on him then, and his entire face fell. "Shit. Oh, God. Oh, Pocket. Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I didn't think--"

"Why would you say that, Bucky?" you asked, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. "You've never called me a-a-..." you couldn't even get the word out. "How could you do that?"

"Fuck, Baby..." Bucky began, running his hands through his hair in response to your distress, "I never... I thought you'd like it. I should have realized, after Darren..."

"Don't say his name!" You hadn't meant to shout at him, but you were damned if you were going to invite the ghost of your tormentor into the sanctuary of your room. "Please," you cried, "don't say his name."

Bucky got up and tried to wrap his arms around you, but you pulled away, feeling too vile, too dirty, to even let him touch you.

"Sweetheart, please," he began, reaching for you again, "you're shaking. Let me hold you." You shook your head as you moved away from him yet again, trying to steady yourself.

"Where did that even come from, Bucky? Why would you think... What would even make you think that was something I would want?"

Bucky's hand went to rub the back of his neck as he looked up at you from behind his lashes. "I... I heard girls... like that sort of thing. That it turns them on."

"You can't just start it out of nowhere," you cried, "It's something you need to agree on first! You can't just say it without making sure your partner's okay with it! And I can't believe you'd ever think I would be okay with it! God, who even told you that?" You couldn't imagine any of Bucky's friends saying something like that to him; hell, Steve would have a coronary before even suggesting it. Did he read about it in some degrading kink group online?

"I was talking to Vix, and she said--"

"You what?" you spun to face him, your words sharp in your shock.

"Vixen. Jade. I was talking to her during training one time and she said girls like it when guys talk to them like that during sex. Well, she said she likes it. Said it, uh, turns her on."

Your entire body froze as if you'd been doused with ice water. "You were talking to Jade Carthage about sex and what gets her off." Your voice was hard and clipped. It wasn't even a question, just a statement that made your stomach twist, but you had to make sure you had understood him correctly.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad," Bucky hemmed, "but sweets, I swear, it wasn't like that."

You called for FRIDAY to turn up the lights, no longer wanting to be trapped in the intimacy of the semi-darkness with him.

"It wasn't like that? Then please enlighten me, Bucky, what was it like? Jesus, how did you two even stumble into that conversation in the first place?"

"Baby," Bucky looked frantic as he grabbed his boxer briefs from the floor and tugged them back on, "I don't even remember how we got on the subject. We were sparring and I pinned her and--"

"You had a conversation about sex while you were lying on fucking top of her?" You could barely contain your rage; you were seething, about to vibrate out of your skin with revulsion.

"Honey, it's not that big of a deal, really."

"Not that big of a deal?" you asked, knowing you were about to tread into some very dangerous territory, but needing him to understand you. "So, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if I let Steve get on top of me and had him tell me what gets him hard? What makes him come?"

Bucky's jaw tightened immediately at the mention of Steve. "Don't," he growled. "Do not bring him into this. It's completely different."

"It's not, Bucky! It's a thousand times worse! God," you threw your arms above your head as you began to pace in front of your bed. "I can't tell if you're actually this naive or if you think I'm fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid, Pocket," Bucky's voice was quieter now, more restrained. "I... God, I just messed up. I'm an idiot. I didn't think it through and..." He trailed off and slumped onto the edge of the bed, his hands pushed into his hair as he stared down at the floor.

You could see his muscles craving to pull you back into his arms, but he resisted. His eyes flickered to you before darting away again, like looking at you caused him physical pain.

"Do you want to sleep with her? Were you imagining her while you were fucking me?" It was a reckless question to ask--a question that you didn’t want the answer to--but it slipped out before you could stop it.

Bucky's head whipped up, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at you. "What? No!" He stood abruptly, hands outstretched towards you. "Baby, no! God, no! I would never... I can't even believe you'd think... Don't even talk like that."

"But you took her kinks, her turn ons, and you brought them into our bed. You spoke words you knew another woman-- a woman you know I fucking loathe-- wanted to hear, you... you used them on me, knowing my history, and you didn't give a shit about what saying them might do to me!" Your voice was trembling with accusation, your body shaking with tremors of hurt and betrayal.

"No! No, sweetheart... it wasn't like that." He kept repeating himself, his words rushed, his face pale with shock and regret. "I didn't mean to disrespect you like that. I heard her say it and I thought... I mean, she's a woman too, right? So, if she liked it, I thought maybe you..." He trailed off, his expression one of sheer desperation as he tried to find the right words.

"But I'm not her. It wasn’t about pleasing me; it was about using what pleases her." You shook your head harshly, a lump forming in your throat. "You don't even see how wrong that is. And you shouldn't even have been having the conversation with her in the fucking first place!"

"What can I do?" Bucky pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he raked his fingers through his hair again. His face was etched with pain, regret seeping from every pore of him. "How can I fix this? Tell me how to make it right."

But you were too overcome by anger and heartbreak to think straight. You moved further away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to shield your heart from further damage.

“What did you tell her?” you asked, but Bucky looked at you with confusion etched across his face. “You said it was a conversation. I’m assuming she didn’t do all the talking. What did you talk about? Did you tell her what gets you off? What you like? Were you sharing intimate details about our sex life with a complete outsider? Did you tell her about your ‘sergeant’ kink?”

He didn’t need to speak for you to read the truth in the expression on his face.

The silence hung in the room, heavy and oppressive, as Bucky fought for words. A nerve twitched in his jaw, the only movement in his otherwise frozen face. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I... Yes, I did," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "I didn't think it through. I didn't mean to... I just..."

His voice trailed off again and he sunk back onto the bed, looking completely defeated. His hands covered his face as if he were desperate to hide himself from your accusing gaze.

“Get out.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him. This was a betrayal beyond anything you’d ever have expected from him. 

Bucky’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at you as though he was seeing you for the first time.

"Get out," you repeated, each word a dagger. "I can't... I can't stand to even look at you right now."

Still, Bucky didn’t move. He just sat there in stunned silence, his face pale and his eyes filled with regret.

"I said get out!" Your voice was shrill, filling the room with a chilling echo that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of your being.

Bucky flinched at your tone, and finally roused himself to his feet. He looked at you one last time, his steel-blue eyes so full of pain that it made your heart ache despite everything. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else, like he might try to explain, but you’d had enough of his ‘explanations’ for the evening. Hell, maybe for the rest of your life.

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes filling with a mixture of fear and dread as he nodded slowly. "Okay... yeah," he stammered. "I'll give you some space."

“No. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done, Bucky. This… this is unforgivable. We’re finished.”

"Doll," he breathed, the pet name he had given you sounding like a prayer on his lips, but a curse to your ears. "I love you... I'm sorry. I messed up, I know. But I love you."

“I don’t believe you.” You felt like your heart was being ripped apart as you watched him standing there, consumed by remorse. You had never seen him like this before, his usual charismatic confidence replaced with fearful uncertainty.

“Just go,” you whispered, turning away so you wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes. You felt a sob rising in your throat, but you held it back, refusing to let it out while he was still there.

With every inch of him screaming resistance, Bucky walked over to the door and hesitated at the threshold. "I'll... I'll do anything to make this right, sweetheart," he promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I'll fix this... We can fix this."

But you remained silent, your back still turned to him as you tried desperately to keep your tears at bay. The sound of the door opening and closing behind him was deafening in its finality.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, suddenly feeling cold. The room was suddenly too big, too empty without Bucky's reassuring presence. You sunk onto the bed, burying your head in your hands as the events of the night washed over you with overwhelming force as you began to sob in earnest.

You weren't even sure what you were angriest about. He’d broken yet another promise and left you waiting, your romantic getaway forgotten so he could be by her side. He'd called you a slut and a whore. He’d discussed your sex life with Jade-- the one woman you hated above all others, and openly discussed her kinks with her, and his own desires in return. He'd forced her kinks on you without your consent.

And then there was the worst part of it all, the bit that made you feel sick and hollow: he'd failed to see what he'd done wrong.

You had thought Bucky knew you better, that he respected you more than this. You'd shared secrets and fears with him, things you'd never shared with anyone else, not even Tony. He knew your past, knew how much trust meant to you - knew how difficult it had been for you to open your vulnerabilities up to something more than just casual sex - and yet he'd violated that trust in such a profound way.

This was just beyond anything else that had come before it. You couldn’t see a way to move forward after this.

Numbly, you began to strip off the sheets from the bed, your hands shaking as you balled them up and threw them into a corner of the room. You couldn't sleep on them now, nor ever again. You couldn't bear the thought of lying down where he'd... where he'd...

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as the reality of what had happened set in. You tried to blink them away, tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. But it was too late. Tears blinded you as you moved through your space on muscle memory alone, grabbing a garbage bag from under the sink in the kitchenette and shoving the offending sheets into it to dispose of later. Boiling them in chlorine wouldn't be able to relieve them of the taint they now carried.

Once the offending sheets were securely bagged and out of sight, you stumbled your way into the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, you stripped from your robe and stepped under the scalding stream from the waterfall shower head.

Hissing as the water hit your body, you let yourself succumb to your emotions. You reached for your loofah and began scrubbing at your skin, doing everything in your power to wash away the intense feeling of shame that had permeated deep under your dermis. You scrubbed until your skin was red, until it was raw and cracked and bleeding, but it offered you no relief.

The sensations were familiar, the burning heat, the stinging of newly torn flesh. It had been so long since you had felt the need to ritually cleanse yourself like this, you had desperately hoped you'd finally found yourself beyond the need to do so, but just a few words from Bucky's mouth had sent you reeling backwards, back to being that worthless, vile, used up girl that no number of college degrees, fancy company titles, or board-approved computer programs could fully erase. It was in your DNA, and you couldn't escape it. You scrubbed and scrubbed until time had lost meaning.

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[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 9

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to safe the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Word count: 4347

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well), she/her pronouns

"You good to go?", Arthur asks as he approaches the table you're sitting at.

A smile begins to spread on your face and you stand up from your chair. "Of course."

It's almost noon and the sun is burning into your neck, but you barely feel it. Today you will finally go out with Arthur again and you're convinced that nothing is going to be able to dampen your excitement.

He extends his hand to help you get atop of his horse after he hoists himself onto the saddle himself.

"Got your gun with you?", he asks and even though you know that it never leaves your pocket, your hand still moves to your side to check it.

"Yup."

Arthur nods. "Keep it tucked away. I don't want folk to get the wrong idea."

That sounds reasonable. He's made it clear yesterday that this won't be a job where you'd have to resort to violence. It's a relief, really. Yes, you're starting to feel more comfortable with the thought of firing your revolver, but it doesn't mean you're particularly enjoying it.

"So what's the plan?" You remember him telling you that he would come up with one this morning.

There is a hope in you that he might have possibly changed his mind about playing a bit of dress-up and pretending, but you know that the chances aren't good.

"We'll just say that we're lookin' to learn more about the rich history of this land 'round here.", he answers and you try your best to mask your disappointment.

"Alright.", you answer and he throws you a quick look over his shoulder before focusing on the road again.

"You sound disappointment.", he comments and you bite back a sigh.

Disappointed doesn't even remotely come close to what you're feeling right now. Crushed would be more appropriate (and more dramatic). "No, I'm fine."

Even though you sound anything but fine he still doesn't question you any further. Perhaps it's to respect boundaries or perhaps he doesn't want to get deeper into the whole dress-up topic. It's probably the latter of those two.

That's when you notice that the Gray residency isn't too far away from camp. In fact it doesn't even take 15 minutes until you arrive and Arthur slows down into a trot.

As you come closer to what seems to be the main house, two guards at the front stop you. Both of them are heavily armed with rifles and grip them a tad tighter when their eyes fall on you.

"What do you want?", the one on the right asks and takes a couple steps closer.

He sizes you two up through narrowed eyes and with a suspicious glare. What a warm welcome.

"My wife and I are history enthusiasts and would like to learn more about this land. We've been told-" Before Arthur can even finish his sentence, the guard who had stepped closer raises his hand in an irritated manner.

"I've heard enough. You'd like to talk to Master Beau regardin' that.", he answers and walks back to his post. "He's near the stables on the left."

Arthur thanks the man and together you start going into the direction he has pointed towards.

"My wife and I are history enthusiasts.", you repeat, dropping your voice to sound lower and imitating Arthur's deep southern drawl. "We're so interested in in history."

"Real funny.", he answers, dragging out the first word and with his tone oozing with sarcasm.

Then you spot a young man leaning against the wall, completely engrossed in his book. Arthur and you get off the Tennessee Walker and make your way towards the man.

"I see you at the Sheriff's office?", the outlaw calls out and the young man's head snaps up. You give Arthur a quick puzzled look. Whatever happened to the history enthusiasts you were pretending to be?

"Excuse me, friend.", the young man answers and puts his book down on one of the crates.

Arthur takes his usual stance where he places his hands on his weapon belt and eyes the young man thoroughly. "We friends?"

The energy he's giving off now is a vast contrast to earlier when he talked to the guards. There he was almost trying to appear small, but that facade is off now.

You assume that it would be smart to match his sudden change of mannerism and so you straighten your back and keep your chin high. Does it look convincing and threatening? Ah, it seems as if the young man hasn't quite noticed you just yet so it doesn't really matter.

"Not yet, but here's hoping.", he tells Arthur and curls his lips up into a smile. "We don't get a lot of traveling men here. Then suddenly there's a whole phalanx of mysterious, but strangely helpful Yankees about the place."

His wording makes you raise both eyebrows slightly. It doesn't sound like how the rest of his family talks or how anyone else in this area talks, for that matter.

Arthur scratches his cheek. "Is there?", he responds in a casual way.

"What are you doing here?" The question isn't accompanied by a wary or alerted tone, but more genuine curiosity.

Lately it's been a rare sight to meet someone who doesn't immediately assume the worst about you and you're starting to like the man for that.

Arthur looks back at you for a brief moment before answering. "We're just lookin' for work."

For the first time since you've arrived here the man's eyes fall on you and he gives you a friendly nod. "Well, lookin' for something. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"What secret?", you chime in and thankfully manage to hide the concern in your voice. Does that means he knows who you guys truly are?

But the young man completely ignores your question and his entire face lights up instantly. "I've got a secret of my own."

"Are you secretly normal?", Arthur asks bluntly, earning a snort from you. You catch him attempting to hide his half smirk with his cowboy hat by looking down.

"The thing is, I don't care if you kill the whole lot of us and the Braithwaites."

"We don't want to kill anyone.", you assure the man even though he doesn't look worried at all. It doesn't feel like he needs to be reassured, but you still don't want to leave it unsaid.

"I love her, you know?"

"Love who?", Arthur asks rather aggravated.

Though you do have to agree that it's quite difficult to follow this conversation with the way the young Gray jumps from one topic to another like it's a skipping rope.

"Penelope.", he answers in a dreamy way as if he just told you the meaning of life. "But it's impossible."

Of course. A Romeo and Juliet themed love story was bound to happen with the way these two families hate each other. It's almost mandatory for every blood feud.

"She's a Braithwaite.", he continues on. "I'm Beau Gray, son of Tavish Gray, nephew of Leigh Gray the sheriff, grandson of old Murdo Gray."

It's not anything you were aiming for, but now you know the whole goddamn family tree. Arthur seems to share the same thought by the look he's giving you.

Your eyes follow Beau as he paces around like a caged tiger. Obviously the entire situation is making him more than frustrated and you understand.

"We Grays have been loyal to the state and murderers to the Braithwaites for so long now, no one can even quite explain why! Beyond blind loyalty and stupidity. I'm supposed to be loyal to some nonsense while she-"

The young Gray stops mid sentence and let's out a soft sigh. He tells you more about this Braithwaite, Penelope, calling her a woman of the future and praising her in high tones. It earns a gentle smile from you.

How refreshing it is to see that at least some of the younger generation don't see the point of continuing this senseless hatred and fighting.

"Well, I'm sorry for your predicament.", Arthur says and turns to leave, but Beau extends both hands in his direction.

"Would you help?" His voice is laced with desperation and he watches you two with pleading eyes.

"We don't wanna get involved in gang feuds. It seems unseemly", the outlaw answers on your behalf and you shoot him a rather offended look. You would like to hear what the young man has to say, but you understand that you also have to keep a low profile here.

Beau's response comes shooting out of him like a bullet. "I'll pay! I've got money! We Grays we've always got money. No brains, mind, but money."

Arthur and you change looks for a brief moment.

It's worth hearing him out now.

Judging by the expression on his face he seems to be thinking the exact same thing. Well, you haven't quite been as opposed to helping as the rugged outlaw has.

"In that case..."

The words don't even leave Arthur's mouth completely and Beau already jumps to hand him a letter and a small gift box. He explains how Penelope usually sits in a gazebo at the edge of the Braithwaite property.

Together you make your way back onto the horse and ride towards where the other family resides.

"Now we're caught up in this hillbilly version of Romeo and Juliet.", Arthur mutters under his breath, sounding more than a little frustrated.

It makes you chuckle. "I think it's cute."

"Good for you then. I for one don't like bein' some errand boy."

"Oh, don't think about it like that, Arthur. We're not just running some errands. We're helping a young couple in the name of love.", you respond with an amused smirk on your face and he shakes his head.

"I'd rather do it in the name of money like he promised us."

True. You can't imagine Arthur saying yes to this without the outcome involving a payment of some sort. That's not the case with you though. You're actually kind of excited to see where this goes.

"He said the guards aren't too friendly to strangers so I'll sneak in.", Arthur says as he stops outside the Braithwaite property and jumps off his horse.

"I can come with you.", you answer, but he raises his hand and shakes his head.

"Absolutely not. You'll wait here for me and at the first sign of trouble, I want you to run away."

The fact that he doesn't trust you with these things still frustrates and offends you. After what you've done to these two O'Driscolls you thought he wouldn't doubt you this much still.

It's futile to argue about it though and you know it so you silently watch Arthur jump over the white fence and vanish in the tobacco fields.

Yes, he told you to flee when something happens, but you're convinced that he's got this in the bag. Arthur might not be the sneakiest member in the gang, but he's a good enough hunter to stay undetected by humans.

Besides, if he actually would get into trouble and you'd get wind of it, you're convinced that you couldn't leave him. Knowing you, you'd most likely run head first into the fight.

As you're leaning with your back against a tree and playing with a flower you have picked from the ground, your mind starts to wander.

This is another fantastic opportunities to travel back home, but you're playing around again.

You shake your head in an attempt to get rid of these thoughts. There's no way you can just disappear in the middle of a job. Especially during one where you're with Arthur.

Excuses.

Much to your relief and luck, the rugged outlaw returns again before you could even begin to spiral once more. Quickly you notice that he has an even more annoyed expression on his face than he did after talking to Beau.

"Did it not go well?", you ask, concern thick in your voice.

"No, I met her and we talked, but she gave me another goddamn letter.", he answers through gritted teeth. "Come on. I want this to be over as soon as possible."

As you climb back onto his Tennessee Walker, you bite back a chuckle and overall remain silent during the ride. Yes, you could tease him relentlessly, but you decide to leave the man alone. For now.

You definitely won't show this much mercy once you get back in camp. Just imagining Sadie's face and laughter when you tell her about all this makes you grin to the point where your cheeks hurt.

When you arrive back at Beau's, he's in one of the stables and taking care of the horses. Arthur and you get off his and he leisurely strolls over the gate and leans against it with both arms.

"You got our money?"

Beau's arm shoots forward to place some dollar bills in Arthur's hand and he gives him a yearning look. "Did she send anything back."

"Yes.", the outlaw answers and the young man goes to push open the gate, but Arthur stops him. "But it'll cost ya."

The man's face falls and you give Arthur a stunned look. His eyes flicker towards you, noticing your disapproval and he let's out a defeated sigh before stepping away from the gate.

"Fine.", he grumbles into his beard and hands over Penelope's letter.

Beau's eyes fly over the words and his expression turns more mortified by the second. "This'll get her killed for sure."

This piques your interest and you turn to face him. "What is it?"

"Women's suffrage. 'Round here they don't even like men voting. They'd bring back the monarchy if given the chance. Progress is a dirty word in these parts unlike incest."

The last part now even has Arthur's attention and he furrows his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"I don't wanna marry my cousin, Mathilda! I wanna marry Penelope, but they'll- they'll kill her at one of these rallies they're holdin'! They've done it before!"

Beau paces around, clearly upset at the situation and then he turns around on his heels to give you both another one of his pleading looks. "You gotta help!"

Before you can even open your mouth to answer, Arthur beats you to it. "No, we don't want no part of it."

"I'll pay! My family, we've still got some money!", Beau argues.

This time it's you who doesn't let the other speak up. Whether it's out of offense for being interrupted or because you feel the strong urge to help this man, you can't tell. "We'll do it."

Your gaze is set on Beau, completely avoiding whatever venom Arthur might be shooting at you through his blue eyes. Later when you two get back to camp, you'll probably get an earful for this, but right now you couldn't care less.

"Thank you! I knew you and your wife would understand!", Beau yells out and before any of you could correct him he's already on a horse. "Come on!"

The prospect of possibly joining the rally makes you excited. It dampens the thought that it could end in violence with the way Beau described the people around Rhodes.

In the distance you spot a large wagon and a group of women gathered next to it. They're all wearing a banner in which the vehicle itself is decorated with as well.

Beau practically flies off his horse the moment you all get there and you follow him on foot towards a young blonde woman. Her face both lights up and darkens when her eyes fall on the young Gray.

"Beau, what are you doing here?", she asks in disbelief and grabs both his hands with hers.

"Stopping you! You'll get yourself killed." His voice is laced with fear and desperation and upon hearing his words, she pulls away.

Her chin is set high as she steps back with a determined look on her face. "I'm prepared to die for the cause."

It sends a shiver down your spine and you feel something within you stir. If there was even a little bit of doubt inside you, then it had left for good. Now you're more than certain that you want to, no have to join this rally.

"You have to do something!", you hear Beau plead and Arthur let's out a grunt.

"Do what? Fight this mob? They'd eat me alive."

Without an ounce of hesitation you tap the blonde woman, who you assume is Penelope, on the shoulder and she faces you. "Arthur can drive the wagon. We'll join you."

"Excuse me?", you hear the outlaw call out to you and Penelope hastily walks towards the older woman who's giving a speech at the other end of the group.

Arthur places a firm hand on your shoulder makes you turn around towards him and opens his mouth for what you think is a scolding, but nothing leaves his lips when you two lock eyes.

None of you speak a single word, but at the same time it feels like plenty is being said. The anger in his face slowly fades away and so does his grip on your shoulder.

"You said you'd drive the wagon?" The older woman who was giving a speech up until now steps next to you.

Without his eyes ever leaving yours he answers. "Yes."

"Wonderful! Olive Calhoon.", she says and shakes his hand. "Normally I like to drive the wagon myself, but today I feel like a man joining us sends just the right message."

Your smile grows ever wider as everyone gets onto the wagon and you climb into the saddle of Arthur's Tennessee Walker. The horse knows you well enough by now to not cause any trouble and buck you off and you give him a soft pat.

As the wagon starts moving and the women begin to sing, you shoot Beau, who's riding beside you, a reassuring smile. He returns it, but it's clear that he's still worried.

"We're mothers, wives, housekeepers, and daughters! We cook the food and we fetch the water! Sing songs of freedom and glory be! Fair women on the mind, come join with me!"

Voices of women singing fill the air, making the people of Rhodes step out onto the street. They're all staring down the wagon with discontented faces and some of them even yelling, demanding for the rally to stop.

"You're disrupting the peace!", one of the bystanders calls out angrily, earning loud agreement from the others.

All that protesting doesn't seem to intimidate the women at all or stifle the energy they're putting into this. On the contrary, their voices grow even louder as if they're being cheered on instead.

It feels like electricity is coursing through you at the sight and you begin to join into the song as the wagon drives through the small town.

"They're gonna stop at the bank. Let's leave the horses in the back.", Beau rips you out of your bubble and you blink a few times before nodding. You had totally forgotten about the reason why you're here in the first place.

Without saying another word you follow the young man behind the bank and hastily make your way back to the group. Arthur is standing at the edge and you stop by his side while listening to Miss Calhoon.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! This is a great day for all of us!", she starts and you join in on the cheering.

You feel Arthur's gaze on you, but your eyes and ears are glued to the older woman who is standing at the top of the stairs. The wide smile on your lips never leaving your face.

Unfortunately you spot two nasty looking men in the corner of your eyes, walking straight towards Beau and you carefully watch them like a hawk.

One of them is big with a balding head and a thick mustache. "What the hell you doin' here, boy?"

"Hello, darlin' cousin.", Beau responds with a strained voice while his eyes are fixed on Miss Calhoon. He's doing his best to avoid looking at the men.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that!", mustache man spits as if he's got an insult thrown at him instead of a term of endearment.

The other man is slightly taller than the first one and a vast contrast with his full set of hair on his head. "What are ya doin' here?"

"Listenin', I suppose."

You nudge Arthur's shoulder and motion with your chin towards them. A single look is being exchanged between you, a silent message and together you push through the women to get to the young Gray.

"Weren't we just leavin'?", the outlaw calls out to Beau and you follow closely behind.

"Who are you?", mustache man asks through narrowed eyes.

Arthur gives him a long, stern look, but ignores his question. "Follow me through here.", he tells Beau.

The three of you walk around to the back and the young man tells you about a place where you could go to. It's an old battlefield no one visits anymore and it's apparently a good spot where his cousins won't be following you.

You sincerely hope that he's right with that. After all this you're not particularly in the mood for a fight.

"You know, I ain't voted before, but I'm kinda gettin' hot for votin' rights!", Arthur comments and you can't tell if it's meant as a joke or if he's being serious.

"I don't know if I should take you seriously, Mr. Morgan, but my cousins are my primary concern now. If anyone should know about Penelope and me..."

"Everyone knows about Penelope and you!", the outlaw yells and you nod along. "We know about Penelope and you and we been here all of ten minutes."

He's right. Beau might keep saying how important it is to keep his love a secret, but the signs really don't look too good if he tells every stranger he meets about it. Goddammit, he told Arthur and you about it before you could even grasp the chance to introduce yourselves after all.

Beau continues telling you once again how much his family hates the Braithwaites and that it's not any different the other way around. He even mentions a Catherine Braithwaite and her daughter, but Arthur shuts him down quickly.

"I ain't heard 'bout daughters. Only treasure.", he says and your small group stop by the spot Beau was mentioning earlier.

You get off the horses and the young mean rummages inside the satchels of his saddle.

"You know, you should leave. With Penelope.", you chime in and he let's out a longing sigh.

"I will once I have enough money. You see, my family has a lot of money, but I don't."

Arthur crosses his arms infront of his chest and chews on the inside of his cheek. "Is your family very rich?"

You almost cough at the bluntness of his question, but manage to compose yourself in time. This is the whole reason why you're here after all. To find out if these families really are sitting on a pile of money or if it's all just some horseshit.

"Yes I believe so, but they keep me out of the discussion.", Beau answers. "I have more of an artistic temperament so..."

"Is that what they call it?", the outlaw comments while looking away into the distance. You bite back a laugh.

Beau walks around his horse, handing a bundle of dollar bills to the outlaw. "I really love her. I do."

"Well, stick around and maybe you can die for her as well.", he answers casually while counting the money.

"I thought you were gonna make me feel better."

You place your hand on the young man's shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. "It will all turn out just fine."

Hearing your words makes him smile even though there is nothing backing them up. None of you know if it actually will turn out alright for the two unfortunate lovers, but you'd like to believe that it will.

Arthur's voice rips you out of your thoughts and you pull your hand away. "We gotta go now."

Beau says his farewells to you two and your gaze follows after him as he disappears into the distance.

"Wasn't this kind of nice?", you ask and a scoff leaves his throat.

"Nice? If you think runnin' around deliverin' some letters is nice then sure." He shakes his head in a disappointed manner. "And we still don't know for sure if this treasure everyone keeps talkin' about exists."

He hoists himself up onto his saddle and extends his hand out to you. As you take it, you give it a short squeeze and smile up at him. "Thank you."

Confusion spreads on his rough features and he pulls you up. "For what?"

"Bringing me with you and doing all this. I know you didn't want to join the rally or drive the wagon. I also wanted to apologize for that, you know? I understand that I put you on the spot back there and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

The horse starts walking in a leisure and comfortable pace and for the longest time you don't get an answer. You begin to fear that he might be angrier than you have initially expected.

"There's no need to apologize. I guess it was fun...in a way.", he mumbles into his beard.

It feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders and you sigh in relief. "So you're not mad at me?"

"'Course not."

Instinctively you wrap your arms a but tighter around his waist in a half-hug and it doesn't go unnoticed by you that he's not attempting to get away from your touch or even tensing up from it.

Sure, you didn't find out too much about the Gray family, but today was still a success in your book.

Taglist: @shackspossum

[v1bestillax]

House Of Cards

Mafia!Mammon X reader

Writer note;HEYYY,Hope yall like it<3! Support my fanfics(if I will post others) by reblogging or liking this🖤

Listen to this when reading,probably may spice up the fanfic

"Out Of all individuals, you fetched the incorrect one!" Mammon yelled at one of his men, nipping the bridge of his nose as he inhaled deeply and let his arms fall to his sides.

The air in the dark basement was thick with tension, the silence except for Mammon's biting tone punctuated only by the soft sound of dripping water from somewhere in the ceiling. His men were rigid, their eyes downcast, not venturing to meet his gaze.

Mammon sighed loudly, frustration etched in the manner in which his shoulders had slumped. He turned around, his eyes shining bright as they locked onto the metal-barred cell at the rear of the room.

“Fine."

His voice was apathetic, unenthusiastic.

"Who are you even, anyway?"

You pressed yourself into the chilly wall, arms crossed, a defiant scowl meeting his. The dancing light above sent serrated shadows across the room, making him look even more dangerous than he already was.

"Perhaps the one who's going to make your life a living hell," you retorted, raising your chin.

Mammon chuckled dryly, walking towards the cell. His tailored black suit hugged him like a second skin, the pricey material doing nothing to deflect the deadly aura that clung to him.

"Big words from a person chained in a cage.” He sneered and cocked his head.

"Big mistake for a guy who kidnapped the wrong person," you exclaimed, clinging to the cold bars. “Let me out, and I won't destroy your whole operation."

Mammon's smile widened, a dark and impenetrable glint appearing in his eyes. He moved closer, near enough for you to notice the faint scar that arced along his jaw.

“You've got fire, I'll give ya that” His voice was nearly on the verge of amusement, and underneath, there was something else—something which twisted your gut in expectation.

You did not know much about the man standing before you, but one thing you were certain of. This was the beginning of something perilous. And maybe… you were not so eager to escape after all.

“Tch. You have a serious attitude problem, huh?" he snarled, but with no real bite in his tone. He stepped back, a hand running through his white-blond locks, frustration giving way to something else—interest.

You leaned back against the cot in the corner of the cell, leg crossing over the other. "Sorry, I wasn't really expecting to get kidnapped today." Sarcasm oozed from your tone, and for a split second, you could have sworn that you saw the shadow of a smirk tug at his lips.

Mammon took a sharp breath, his head shaking. "Y'know, for someone who ain't supposed to be here, ya sure talk a lot."

"For a guy who's alleged to be some big, bad mafia boss, you certainly do make a whole lotta mistakes."* You retorted, cocking your head to the side.

That got his attention. His eyes grew darker, but not in anger. No, this was something else altogether. Interest. Perhaps even amusement.

For the first time since you woke up in this awful basement, he did not return fire right away. Rather, he examined you, arms folded across his chest as he drummed a finger on his forearm.

"Heh."

He let out a chuckle and spun around on his heel.

"You're a real pain, y'know that?"

"And yet, here you still are."

His step hesitated for just a moment.

That was the first sign.

The second was the following day when, instead of having his men deal with you, Mammon himself delivered food to you. Not the bread and stale water you had been given that first night. No, this time it was hot.GOD DAMN.

"Don't read too much into it," he snarled, pushing the plate through the bars."I just don't want ya dyin' on me before I decide what the hell I'm gonna do with ya."

Yet the manner in which his eyes stayed on you, a beat too long, spoke another story.

The third sign was even more telling.

You were pacing in your cell, running a hand through your hair, mind cooking up methods of getting out of this situation. That's when Mammon came back in, looking at you like he was seeing something new—something unexpected.

"You're different," he muttered..

You blinked, your eyes completely turned to him. "Gee, thanks. That means a lot coming from the guy who kidnapped me."

"That mouth of yours is gonna get ya in trouble," he said to you, but the edge you recognized in his voice was more obtuse now, as though he wasn't quite sure if he was warning you… or himself.

And then—sign number four.

There was a battle in the second-floor warehouse. You heard the shouting, the gunfire. Mammon had fled, shouting orders at his men. When he returned, battered and furious, you figured he would brush you aside. To blow past as if you didn't exist.

He stopped in front of your cell instead, knuckles still swollen, shoulders tense.

“You alright?” These words escaped before he could prevent them.

You stared at him. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Mammon sneered, shaking his head. "Ya really are somethin' else, huh?" But the manner in which his fingers drummed against his leg, the manner in which he paused a second longer before moving off— That was the biggest sign of all. Mammon had started to care. And for the two of you, that was dangerous.

The shift was subtle at first—stolen glances, lingering touches when he passed you food, the way his gaze darkened when you challenged him. You had seen the signs. You knew something was coming.

But nothing could have prepared you for this.

It happened fast. One minute, you were in that damn cell, taunting him like always, pushing at his patience just to see how far he’d bend before breaking. The next—Mammon was unlocking the door, grabbing your wrist, and yanking you out.

“Shut up and come with me," he muttered, his grip firm but not painful.

"No ‘please’?" you teased, but your heart hammered against your ribs. Something was different tonight.

Mammon didn’t answer. He pulled you through the darkened hallways of the warehouse, past his men, past the offices, past everything. Until you were outside, where the city lights flickered against the wet pavement, neon reflecting off puddles from an earlier rain. The air was thick with tension, with something electric.

He didn’t stop until you were in a secluded alley, where the world was muffled and small, where only the two of you existed.

Finally, he turned to face you.

His eyes burned into yours, intense, unreadable. His chest rose and fell, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if he were holding something back.

"Do you ever shut up?" he murmured, voice lower, rougher.

"Make me."

You didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him. Maybe it didn’t matter.

All you knew was that the moment Mammon’s lips crashed against yours, the world tilted. (DANGGGG)

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was raw, consuming—like he had been holding himself back for too long and had finally snapped. One hand gripped your waist, fingers digging in as if he was afraid you’d disappear. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head just the way he wanted, deepening the kiss until you had no choice but to melt into him.

Your back hit the cold brick wall, but the heat between you made you barely feel it. He kissed you like he needed it, like this wasn’t just a want but something more dangerous—something desperate.

You gasped against his lips, and he used the moment to slip his tongue past your parted lips, taking, devouring. A low growl vibrated in his chest when you tugged at his jacket, pulling him closer, eliminating what little space was left between you.

When he finally pulled back, he didn’t go far. His forehead rested against yours, breath ragged, his eyes blown wide.

“You’re gonna be the death of me," he murmured, thumb tracing your jaw.

You smirked, despite the way your own breath came uneven. “Then I hope you’re ready to go out with a bang."

Mammon let out a rough chuckle, pressing another quick, bruising kiss to your lips before pulling away completely.

“Tch,Trouble”

But he didn’t let go of you.

And you knew, in that moment, you were already his.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Three: Return of the Kink

Day 12: Hands Under the Table (Public)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Sniper have some fun in a conveniently isolated area of a bar

Tags: Public, dirty talk, fingering, denial, dom/sub, bars, beer (no intoxication), volume control

Word Count: 2.2k

The Masterlist

You gripped a bottle of beer in your hand, letting the condensation soak your palm. Cracking open the cap, you grimaced as it bubbled and dripped down the side before taking a tentative sip. Yup, just as disgusting as the last time you had tried beer. Why you felt the need to force yourself to adapt to this taste, you would never know.

Truthfully, it was probably for the same reason you agreed to come along to this bar in the first place- comradery. You wished your team could get a bit more imaginative with their post-victory celebrations. At the very least, they could buy some drinks and keep them back at the base, where you could at least have the convenience of retiring to your room when things became overwhelming.

Scanning the bar, your eyes fell on Sniper, who had been keeping a booth to himself for most of the night. A bowl of chips in the center of the table remained untouched, and his hat was pulled low over his eyes, as if he simply wanted to fall asleep and be woken up when this was over. Sensing a possible kindred spirit, you approached him.

“I’m surprised you agreed to come,” you said, looking down at Sniper, now seeing that he was also nursing a beer. You wondered if he actually liked the stuff or if he was just faking it like you. Maybe everyone was faking it. Maybe beer was just a grand conspiracy.

Sniper scoffed. “Well, I was practically dragged out of my van to join in.” He nodded towards Scout, who was currently trying to chat up various girls on the small dance floor. It figured that the runner would be the one to pry Sniper out of his self imposed isolation. He was one of the only mercs stubborn and persistent enough to do so. You watched him strut over to the blaring jukebox, leaning against it as if it made him seem cool. You wondered how long it would take for him to put

at least five repetitions of the same Tom Jones song into that thing.

You really didn’t want to be negative. It was a nice bar, nicer than the kind you would usually go to. There was even a small stage for live music, although it was currently empty. After such a long streak of wins, the team had decided to splurge a bit. Yet, you ultimately couldn’t seem to get into the spirit of things.

“I take it you’re having about as much fun as I am?” you asked, your voice oozing sarcasm.

Honestly, you did not enjoy going out. Bars of any kind tended to be loud, crowded, and chaotic. You would much rather celebrate with a night in and some greasy take out. Spy wouldn’t be having that though, with his greater than thou attitude towards American food. Although, based on the way he was sequestered in his own personal corner as well, it seemed this wasn’t very much to his taste either.

“At least most of us seem to be enjoying themselves,” you sighed. Although, as you and Sniper looked out over the crowd, it became clear that some individuals may have been enjoying themselves a bit too much.

Demoman probably wouldn’t be much of an issue. You were almost certain that he was immune to hangovers at this point. The others were another story though. You had a feeling that the few sober ones among you would have to guide them back to the base by the end of the night, and help nurse them back to health in the morning. Why the Medigun wasn’t effective on hangovers, you would never know.

You tried to match Sniper’s laid back demeanor, casually sipping your own beer. However, you couldn’t hide the cringe on your face as you swallowed it down.

“Darling,” Sniper chuckled, watching you try and fail to ignore the taste of cheap booze. “If you don’t like it, why are you drinking it?”

You shrugged, giving a defeated sigh. “I guess I thought if I got drunk enough, this night would seem more entertaining.” You swirled the contents of the beer bottle, only a third empty. “But with how long it’s been taking me to force down sips of this cheap shit, I’m probably not even buzzed.”

Sniper chuckled. You set the bottle down beside him, admitting defeat. He took a swig from it only to find that the drink had long since gone flat. “I might have a way to make the evening more enjoyable, if you’d like,” he suggested, returning to nursing his own beer.

“I’m not dancing,” you quickly said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sniper said, glancing towards the dance floor where Scout was once again trying to seduce girls with his rendition of some kind of indescribable dance- like a cross between the Charleston and a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. You were almost envious of his alcohol fueled confidence. “Just have a seat next to me, doll.”

He patted the booth beside him. You were confused, but also intrigued, sitting down and sidling up next to him with a playful smirk. He quickly reciprocated with an arm draped over your shoulders, pulling you close. You were a bit embarrassed by the school girl-like giggle that escaped you as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Sniper’s lips grazed your ear, making you shiver, only for his next words to make you freeze up. “Don’t make a scene.”

“Wh-” You couldn’t even get a full word out before Sniper’s free hand reached over, unbuttoning your fly and slipping his hand into your pants. You bit your lip to keep yourself from gasping. “Oh my God, Sniper!” you whispered harshly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked as he began to move his fingers, still over your underwear. Even so, it still sent jolts of pleasure through you that made your thighs quiver slightly. “We’ve discussed this, doll. Remember how hot it made you, the thought of me working you over with my fingers in the corner of a crowded room?”

Recalling the conversation made you blush. “Yeah, I remember,” you whispered, thinking back to the night you and Sniper had swapped fantasies over pillow talk. “I just didn’t expect it to be happening now.”

“Well, I believe a key part of that little fantasy was the element of surprise,” Sniper said. “You didn’t want to know when I might spring it on you.” He paused suddenly, his smirk wavering. “Of course, if you aren’t up for this now, we can stop-”

“No, no! I am!” You cringed, lowering your voice and glancing around to make sure no one had noticed your outburst. It appeared that the din of the crowd had effectively drowned you out. “That is, I am very much up for this.”

Sniper nodded, turning his gaze away from you. He sipped his beer, holding the bottle with his free hand while the one down your pants began to rub ever so slowly. Your face flushed scarlet and you bit your lower lip to keep any noises from escaping. Your adrenaline was running high, heightening every sensation. Even being touched through your underwear like this felt incredible.

“Please,” you stammered. “Keep going.”

“Of course, darling.”

Your underwear was pulled to the side, and you shuddered as you felt Sniper's fingers drag along your cunt, coating the digits with your arousal. It didn’t take much effort for him to work a couple fingers into you within a few minutes. You hooked a leg over his thigh, trying to spread your legs in a way that wasn’t too conspicuous. He allowed it, rubbing his free hand over your thigh for a moment. His palm was cold from the chill of the beer, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

The hum of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as Sniper began to pump his fingers faster. He kept switching it up, swapping between thrusting into you and circling your clit, keeping you on your toes, yet always bringing you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation of building, tightening pleasure was at the forefront of your mind, eclipsing everything else.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You didn’t even trust yourself to look out into the crowded bar, fearing that something in your expression would give you away. Still, you had to try to say something, to warn Sniper that you were close.

“Mundy,” you whimpered. “I’m going to-”

“Not yet.”

Your body immediately stiffened. “No, no, no! Don’t be mean, Mundy! I can’t- oh fuck!” Your plea for mercy dissolved on your lips. You kept a white knuckled grip on the table in front of you, scowling down at it like it had personally offended you. It was all you could do to keep your eyes from rolling back.

“Darling, keep it together,” Sniper whispered, although through clenched teeth, it sounded more akin to a growl. “Or else I’ll have to punish you later.”

You frowned, barely keeping the moan out of your voice as you responded with a tense and curt “Fine.”

“And I'll Ignore your attitude, just this once.”

Damn it, he always needed to have the last word. You clamped a hand over your mouth, gluing your eyes to the table. Sniper’s fingers curled inside you, stroking gently and rhythmically. It was all you could do to keep yourself from arching back against the booth.

Sniper downed the rest of his beer. Glancing down, he saw the way your thighs were trembling, even though you were seated. It was quite an alluring sight, and Sniper couldn’t help but get enraptured in it, imagining being inside you, pinning you down somewhere private, and making all those pretty sounds spill freely from your lips. He shook his head, putting those thoughts out of his mind for now, lest he be forced to hold his own hat suspiciously in front of his crotch for the rest of the night.

“You’re pulsing around my fingers. You’re so close you can taste it, aren’t you?” He whispered. You nodded, barely looking up at him, a whimper just barely escaping past your hand. “You’re about to come in front of all these people who don’t have a clue what’s going on right under their noses.” Sniper pressed his fingers firmly against your sweet spot, making you jolt.

“Mundy,” you groaned his name softly, leaning against him. To anyone who glanced over, it would look like you had just overindulged on alcohol. Your flushed face only served to sell the facade even more. It was the perfect cover, really. Still, you would rather not get caught, even though the risk thrilled you in its own unique way. “Mundy, please!”

“It’s alright, doll. You can come, as long as you think you can stay quiet.”

His permission was like a trigger being pulled. Trying not to writhe as your orgasm ripped through you was a struggle, but you managed, hunching over the table and resting your forehead on the cool hard wood. Keeping quiet was a bit more difficult, but luckily the music was loud and the bar denizens were even louder, so the few moans that escaped you went unnoticed.

You stayed with your head on the table for a while, panting, letting out a soft groan when Sniper withdrew his fingers. He was stone faced, simply looking out over the bar as if nothing had transpired. It was only when you sat up that he glanced over at you, giving you a smirk that made your heart flutter. Between the ambient light of the bar and the post orgasmic haze, he looked handsome as hell. You wanted to lean up and kiss him before you could say something embarrassingly sappy.

Sniper broke the silence before you could. “I have a feeling the rest of the team isn’t going to be in any shape to walk back to base tonight.” He nodded towards the dancefloor, where you were certain at least half of your fellow mercenaries were currently making asses of themselves. However, you couldn’t be bothered to look. You didn’t want to tear your gaze away from Sniper. “How about we head back and grab my van so that they can have a ride? Hell, there might even be just enough time to give you a little reward for being such a good girl.”

An enthusiastic grin spread across your face. “I would like that,” you said, standing up quickly. A bit too quickly, apparently, as you staggered within your first step. Thankfully Sniper was at your side in an instant, linking your arms together to keep you steady. He had half a mind to scoop you up and simply carry you out of the bar.

As he guided you towards the exit on shaky legs, he caught the eyes of another patron. They were supporting the weight of their own very intoxicated partner, who was singing- or rather, shouting- the lyrics to whatever song played from the jukebox unintelligibly as they stumbled along. They gave the two of you a sympathetic look, and Sniper suppressed the smirk that threatened to creep onto his face. If only they knew.

[loupy-mongoose]

Warning: This part contains discussion of Pokemon abuse and neglect, as well as the general topic of death.

Edit: I didn't realize when I posted that this part is kinda long, so I'mma slap a Read More on it.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

Lavender stared in shock at the man who'd approached her.

It was him.

The man she'd seen in the articles online.

The man she'd seen in Nico's dream vision.

Fuji...

The man tilted his head a bit. Ah, so you've heard of me. I'm guessing you've read about the orphanage online?

I, uh...

Lav had no idea how she would begin speaking to him, let alone broach the subject that drove her to this moment.

I... I...

She hugged herself, shivering. Her mind and emotions were spent.

Fuji's concerned look grew deeper. Easy, there. Easy. What's troubling you? Maybe we can work it out.

She could feel his genuine concern for her wash off of him, and her own loneliness and regret crashed over her. She asked him in a timid, shaky voice, can I have a hug?

His eyebrow rose, but he smiled warmly at her. Of course! If it'll help!

She charged into his arms almost before he could open them wide enough. Oh how she missed this feeling of being safe in a pair of arms...

So what's got you so upset? Or is it something too personal to tell a stranger like myself?

Uh...

His voice lowered to just above a whisper. Your family isn't mistreating you, are they? I can help get you out if they are.

At that Lav pushed away from him, waving her arms. No no no no, nothing like that! I-I'm sad because I left them... And I wish I hadn't... I came here looking for someone, but... She wiped her eyes for the hundredth time since she'd taken off. It was a rash decision and I wish I could go back...

I can help with that too. Fuji smiled again. Where do they live? I'll do what I can to get you back to them!

Lav gripped at her elbows, biting her lower lip. Should I tell him? How much would it give away...?

How much will I need to give away...?

She took a quiet breath and answered. Paldea.

Paldea... He became thoughtful. That's a long ways away from here... You came here on your own?

Lav nodded, rocking slightly back and forth. All the warnings she'd heard from her parents flashed through her mind, almost making her feel sick again.

Finally she gripped her jacket sleeves and took a deep breath. Listen, Mr. Fuji, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. But... not in the open.

The gentle man lowered his brows questioningly.

I-I know that sounds weird... But... C-can we go to your house? And talk in private?

Fuji's face creased in confusion, but he shrugged. Alright. I'm all ears. Maybe I can offer you a drink to calm your nerves? Coffee, tea, hot coco?

Lav smiled widely at the sound of that. Ooo, yes please! Hot chocolate! Please!

Fuji chuckled as he turned to go and motioned for her to follow. A sweet tooth, huh? No problem!

Hey, I never got your name.

She gave a shy laugh, well recognizing how this might sound to him. It's, uh... Lavender, actually. Lavender Linden.

Hah!! Oh dear, it might be a little hard for my old brain to remember that one. His voice oozed with joyful sarcasm, and Lav felt herself warming up to him.

You can call me Lav if it's too much for you~

Lav. That sounds lovely. He chuckled softly. It's nice to meet you, Lav.

Lav smiled, finally feeling a sense of comfort for the first time since leaving home.

It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Fuji.

The pink Mew carefully peered down into the cliffs surrounding the purple-hued town. It was too far away to make out distinct people. But where his eyes failed him, his senses gave him hope.

I feel her.

He looked at Akoya. They're eyes passed the message without use of words or mind. They flew down to discuss with Persim what the next step would be.

Oooooh, look at themmm!!

Lav looked into a pen containing several little land-dwelling Pokemon. Ratattas, Growlithes, Nidorans, and Mankeys, and others mingled together. Some were missing eyes and limbs.

So you take in orphaned Pokemon and take care of them?

Fuji smiled softly, but with a sad gleam in his eyes. Orphans, injured, sick... Trainers will often bring in Pokemon, either their own or ones that they've found in their travels. It's sad when they're mistreated, but I like to think we offer a little bit of hope and comfort for those in need.

Lav watched a few Ratattas running together, including a dark colored one that had a set of wheels attached to its back legs. She pointed to it. What happened to the Alolan one there?

A Karate Chop went too far. HP shields will only protect so much. Fuji sighed. Her trainer pushed her to fight beyond her limits--against a Machop, no less--and she paid the price. And of course her trainer left her for dead because she couldn't fight anymore.

A lot of the Pokemon in our care have similar stories. I swear, trainers who don't bother learning type matchups drive me up a wall! Just because they're protected from elemental attacks doesn't mean the protection lasts or is perfect every time! And when the shields fail, it can fail spectacularly.

Lav thought about her dad's journey as a trainer through Sinnoh, as well as her own dream of doing her own journey. She had to venture a question. D... Do you feel that way about all trainers?

Absolutely not. There are plenty of good trainers out there, and I adore them. I want to support those ones however I can! And of course trainers will make mistakes. Sometimes mistakes that will cost a life, unfortunately... As long as there are Pokemon trainers, that will continue to happen. But that alone doesn't make one a bad trainer.

And the sad thing is, it's those trainers who suffer most from their mistakes. The ones who throw away the dead or injured, they move on to the next victim with nary a backward glance. But when a loving trainer loses...

He sighed again, leaning on the fence. It's heartbreaking, really. All the trainers who feel like they failed because of their losses, when in reality those are the best of the best. They don't realize that in taking a path of love, they've taken the hard path. Grief is the price we pay for love, after all, and sometimes in can bankrupt trainers...

Suddenly he leaned back. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get sad on you! I see both ends of it, so I have trouble keeping them apart sometimes. I hope you can forgive my morbid rambling...

Of course. Lav smiled morosely. ...I can tell you pay that price a lot...

Fuji met her eyes with warmth. Yeah... Yeah. It's not always an easy job... But it is my greatest love. And grief is a price I'm willing to pay for it.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

This makes me want to do a Nuzlocke. XD

[narrators-journal]

Needing RyoMina ideas? Allow me!

Minato: oh no, im surrounded by enemies and they may kill me(note the dead tone and sarcasm)

BadGuys: Thats Right! Surrender and We MAY not kill you- whats thats bubbling?

Shadow oozes dripping from ceiling

Minato: Oh Thats just my Wife

Death Shadow Morphs around Minato, Howling protectively

Minato: :} say hi love! And don’t leave left overs!

Shiny coming in clutch, fuck yeah! Thank you SO much for feeding me, dude. I’ve been struggling to put the words to paper for these two for days now, but this was so fun that it came so easily! Even if it is also a little...hasty. I was excited to write and post this bad boy, so it might be a little eh on some parts lol. But! I hope it was fun regardless, even if not a perfect match! I went less direct shadow this time, but if you DO really want more of the red riding hood au type of shadow form, feel free to request again! I still love my bird nightmare too <3

CW: Violence and kidnap first and foremost, this is a little bit of an intense set up here lol. Also, be warned, I’ve stated Ryoji has a dark sense of humor, and it shows a bit here, so be mindful of morbid humor when you read!

You’d think kidnappers would be better prepared than this. Minato thought to himself with a muffled oof when he was thrown against the door of the cat-callers’ small car. The rancid sock that they’d stuffed down his throat and handcuffs they’d slapped onto his wrists no help for the midnight-haired man’s mood as tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber scrambled into the car before tweedle-dee could drive off without them. “Can’t believe this cutie was walking around at night all alone like that! Did you see how easy she was to sneak up on?” Tweedle-dumber crowed in triumph while he zip-tied the ex-SEES member’s ankles together, even though Minato hadn’t bothered kicking at them. And you’ve set a record for stupidity. “Yeah! Girls usually aren’t that stupid, she really sets a record!” The man at the wheel laughed, the trio seemingly too caught up in their hubris to notice nor care when the emo pushed himself up into a sitting position.

In fact, it took them almost two entire minutes before Tweedle-dumb finally gave the midnight-haired man a bewildered look. “What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Try to jump out of a moving vehicle?” He snorted, though the wildcard could tell his deadpan stare swiftly discomforted him and Tweedle-dumber ever so slightly. “Maybe she’s one of those freaky types. Y’know, those girls who are into being kidnapped and tied up.” said moron suggested, which earned a chorus of lascivious giggles and snickers from the other two. Yet, all Minato did was look the two men over in the passing lights of the street lights and businesses.

Tweedle-dumber was closest to Minato, and thus easier to identify in the darkness of the car. HE wore a backwards snapback, a patchy attempt at goatee that gave him away as a darker-haired man, and baggy college hoodie. Tweedle-dumb, meanwhile, had shoulder-length, badly bleached hair worn in a small ponytail with streaks of missed hair mixed into it. Clothes-wise, Tweedle-dumb wore a tank top that all but flaunted his sides just as much as he surely flaunted his musclular arms. Minato might’ve found the two rather cute in a pathetic sense given a different situation, but all he could think of about the frat boys now was how they surely had an impressively stupid track record and too much axe body spray on hand. Which, despite being unable to see Tweedle-dee through the driver’s seat, the midnight-haired- Would I have technically dropped out if I’d died? -emo was pretty sure that he’d be the same type of skeezy bar-crawler as the first two.

Before he could look out of the window to see how long he’d be here still, a hand tangled itself into his shaggy hair and yanked his attention back to the hat-clad bastard. “Hey! Are you stupid or something? Why are you so nonchalant about this?” He asked, and the wildcard glared at him for a long moment before he spat the sock out at him. “I thought you guys were happy I wasn’t fighting, why are you so grouchy now?” He asked flatly to humor the duo. Might as well burn the time with some fun, I guess. “I mean, it makes this easier, but you sitting there so silently is fucking weird. What’s wrong with you?” Tweedle-dumb asked with a nod from his fellow goon and Minato rolled his eyes. “Sorry, let me try again. Oh noooo, I’m so scared. Won’t someone save me.” He monotone’d, before he fixed the duo with a bored raise of his eyebrow. “How was that?”

Expectedly, the sarcasm that dripped from the wildcard’s flat voice earned him a punch to the jaw from the one in the hoodie, yet the backseat duo only got more disturbed when Minato simply took that moment to move his knees to be against the back of the driver’s seat so that his shoes didn’t have to sink further into the mat of empty cans, food wrappers, and possibly used condoms. Then, he simply looked back at them without even a twitch of pain in his expression. “The hell type of punch was that? I’ve been hit harder during sex.” “What the fuck-” “You dumb bitch we’ll-” “I’ll fucking kill-” They both were cut off before they could choose a threat when Tweedle-dee finally spoke up again from the front seat. “Ayo, there’s some rando in the street.” His words like a brief magnet for their indignant wrath while Minato simply leaned over to look through the car’s windshield.

Sure enough, there was a familiar figure stood beneath the yellow light of a dimmed street light a good bit ahead of the car. And, while Tweedle-dee had slowed the car to almost a crawl due to the thick miasma of dread that seeped into the car more and more, Minato could still tell who it was beneath that weak light. Even as the other two’s anger turned to confusion at the unmoved figure in the darkness. “It’s probably just some tweaker. Just fucking gun it and they’ll move.” Tweedle-dumb said while Tweedle-dumber shoved Minato back against the door. “Just hit the douche. If he doesn’t get out of the way, it’s his own damned fault.” the man suggested.

Minato was all but forgotten by his seatmates at that point. Both of them had their eyes glued to the approaching figure while Tweedle-dee, to his credit, braved the thick atmosphere and sped the car up to try and spook the stranger out of the way. So, he was free to lean back over and watch as the man’s grin came into focus. However, instead of a quick dash to the sidewalk like the frat brothers had expected, he jumped up to land deftly on the hood of their small car. Crouched to stare in through the windshield, unbothered by Tweedle-dee’s slam on the brakes. Minato was a little less lucky, as he was only kept in place by how he had his knees. “Dude what the fuck?!” The driver shrieked over the other two in a wobbly voice, tears inevitable. “Oh, what good timing. Guys, meet my wife.” Minato hummed, his flat voice finally edged with a crumb of amusement as he watched Ryoji’s bottomless eyes turn back to their beautiful, unearthly blue hue so that he could look over the three strange men who were too scared to even remark on the ex-SEES member’s comment.

On average, the 5’11 brunette on the hood was already an impressive sight when he stood, but Minato could truly appreciate how surface level that intimidation factor was now. Because, as Ryoji sat on the balls of his feet, his elbows casually on his knees so he could look into the car, the midnight-haired man could see just how much of an uncanny nightmare his lover was. With the lack of teeth in his open-mouthed smile, unblinking, lightless blue eyes, ghostly pale complexion under the artificial street light, occasional twitches, and then abruptly normal scarf and button-up-and-slacks combo, it was no wonder that the group refused to dare a breath under his gaze.

Yet, just as quick as Minato’s heart had begun to race, the spell was broken when Ryoji stood. Only to stomp the windshield out with a cold ease. And, in an instant, the car went from a horrified silence, to a cacophany of scream-queen shrieks. One silenced when the shadow yanked Tweedle-dee’s face into the steering wheel. Tweedle-dumber silenced when the nightmare swung himself into the car and one of it’s feet slammed into his ribs with a crunch that Minato could hear all the way from his spot against the door. And, finally, Tweedle-dumb was silenced when the shadow’s hand shot out like a viper to crush his airways. Only then, did those pools of moonlit waters meet Minato’s eyes, and when Ryoji spoke, his words were their usual, bright and friendly selves. As if the brunette wasn’t sat perched on the middle console. “Are you hurt, Funeral Li- What happened to your face.” At least, until he spotted the bruise that had formed after Tweedle-dumber had punched Minato. Then, the shadow’s words fell into a cold whisper that vibrated with a power that the midnight-haired persona user had only felt a handful of times. “I-I’m fine, Mochi, I promise. It barely hurt when he hit me.” He assured as he leaned into the tall brunette’s gentle touch. No care shown to the trio of unconscious or stunned men. “Why…” He had to pause to regain his composure, “why did they grab you? I thought I was close enough to scare anything off.” Ryoji asked as he wrapped a finger around the small chain between Minato’s cuffs and tore it apart as if it were wet paper when he yanked the wildcard into his hold. “They seemed to think I was a girl, somehow.” the wildcard hummed. His quickened heartbeat no longer fueled by fear when he could bury his face into his lover’s sunny scarf and breathe in the scent of cold graveyard dirt.

The softly dark chuckle his words earned a further balm to the adrenaline in his veins. “Well damn, why didn’t you tell me you were a girl, Funeral Lily? If I’d known, I would’ve been the one to cuff you. Though, I wouldn’t have bothered with your feet.” Ryoji joked, a heartbeat before he reached down and ripped apart the zip-ties next with a simple twitch of his wrist. But, Minato just shook his head with a snort and leaned back to ask, “What’re you gonna do about them, Nightshade? Turn them into the cops?” “No.” Was the brunette’s simple response, as if Minato had asked him for his preferred dinner. Those pools of blue dimly aglow in the darkness of the backseat, one of his feet now planted firmly into tweedle-dumber’s crotch so he could face the midnight-haired emo as he chuckled, “Well then, you better not leave anything for the police to find if they come looking. I don’t think Mitsuru could pay off the police like she did the teachers at Gekkoukan.” Which got a small noise from one of the trio, but Ryoji simply smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Of course not, Funeral Lily. Not even their blood.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 

“Osita…”   

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 

And holy fuck did he look hot. 

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 

“Hermosa, are you okay?” 

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 

“What’s going on, baby?” 

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 

Oh, fuck me. 

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 

“Like, right now?” 

“Like, right now.” 

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 

“You still okay, Osita?” 

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 

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